


Where You Are (I'm Right There, Too)

by mylittlefakestars



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dramatic Misrepresentation of the Deep Web, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sort of? - Freeform, mentions of sexual abuse, panic disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittlefakestars/pseuds/mylittlefakestars
Summary: Hongjoong has never planned on chasing down his soulmate.Sure, he's the only one of his friends that still hasn't put a face to the name tattooed on his wrist, but he doesn't mind. He has more important things to be worrying about.So, no, he's in no hurry to find his soulmate. However, things change when his soulmate shows up at his front door.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 274





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so, there's this game called welcome to the game, and its sequel welcome II the game (get it haha two), right? it's basically a deep web scavenger hunt, and it has a bunch of fake webpages for services that you can apparently find on this deep web.  
> one of them was this dude who would, like, rent out his daughter for weeks at a time. pretty awful shit. absolutely reprehensible.  
> anyway, i watched a let's play, and i saw that site, and i was like "haha someone could make an au out of this."  
> and here we are like two years later!  
> so this is going to deal with, like, heavy shit like sexual abuse and human trafficking and emotional abuse, so like don't read if you don't like that! and don't tell me i'm trash for writing this kind of stuff; i already know! haha  
> anyway yeah enjoy whatever,,,,,, this is.

“Hyung, are you sure this is equipment?”

Hongjoong heaves a sigh, shifting the box in his arms once again. “I don’t see what else it would be,” he replies.

“I feel like I’m carrying a box of rocks,” Yunho whines. “What if there’s a dead body in here or something?”

“I’m sure we would know by now if it was,” Hongjoong says. “We’re almost there anyway, quit complaining.”

He ignores the younger’s groans, thinking that the box was rather heavy for what should just be more music equipment. He can feel the box chafing against the inside of his forearms, rubbing against the name embedded into his wrist. Of course, whining would only make the trek worse, so he doesn’t voice his concerns. 

He arrived at his building this morning to find the box downstairs with his apartment number on it. He’s tired, having spent the entire evening on campus to work on his thesis project, so he just shoots Yunho a text asking him to help him get the box upstairs. Thankfully, the elevator is finally working again, but their apartment is still on the opposite end of their hallway.

Hongjoong sets his side of the box down on the ground outside their door gently while Yunho drops his side unceremoniously onto the worn wood. Hongjoong glares at him while he fiddles with his keys, unlocking the door. 

“Stop that,” he says when he sees Yunho move to kick the box. “We still don’t know what’s in it.”

Yunho scoffs. “Whatever,” he says, leaning to gently push the box through the doorway. 

Hongjoong heads to the kitchen for their only pair of scissors while the younger continues to slide the box into their small living room. He racks his brain, trying to remember when he last made an order while he rifles through their drawers. From what he can recall, everything he’s ordered in the past month or so has already arrived, and Eden will usually tell him if he’s sending something he found secondhand.  
Hongjoong reasons that he could’ve ordered something overseas that’s taken a while to arrive as his hand finds the scissors. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened. 

“Hey, hyung?” Yunho calls from the living room.

“I’ll be right there,” Hongjoong replies absently, walking toward the living room. “I told you to stop opening boxes with your hands, you’ll get--”

Hongjoong stops in his tracks. Yunho is ignoring him, staring slack-jawed at the box-- or rather, what he found in the box.

It’s… a person. There’s a live human being sitting in the box in their living room. 

“D-did you,” Yunho starts, turning to look at Hongjoong. “Did you order a person?”

Hongjoong’s gaze moves from Yunho to the person in the box. He’s young-looking, might even be around their age. His hair looks just slightly overgrown, and his eyes are blown wide, gaze darting around the room.  
“What? No,” Hongjoong replies, his confusion slowly turning to irritation. “You don’t think one of the kids did this, do you?”

Yunho blinks. “How?” He asks incredulously. 

The young man looks familiar in a way that Hongjoong can’t quite place. He steps closer, and the young man plasters himself to the backside of the box, eyes widening even further. Hongjoong backs up a bit, panic seizing his chest as if he could feel the other’s anxiety. He shakes his head before leaning down a little so that he is at eye level with the young man.

“Did Mingi put you up to this?” He asks, trying to keep his tone even.

The young man opens and closes his mouth before shaking his head slowly, cautiously, as if he’s afraid of upsetting Hongjoong.

“I don’t think it’s a joke,” Yunho says hesitantly. “He looks scared.” 

Hongjoong straightens. The young man is still quite literally backed into a corner, knees drawn up to his chest like he’s trying to make himself look as small as possible. His eyes are now locked on Hongjoong, chest heaving with every breath he takes. 

“You don’t know why I’m here,” he says, voice hoarse with what Hongjoong assumes is underuse. 

It’s not really a question, but Hongjoong shakes his head anyway. 

“No,” he says. “We don’t. I-I came home and there was a box downstairs. No return address.” 

That seems to make the young man even more upset, expression contorting with horror before he ducks his head. He inhales sharply, and Hongjoong belatedly notices the young man’s hands are tied in front of him.

“This is bad,” the young man says, tilting his head back in a futile attempt to stop the tears from falling down his face. “I-I shouldn’t be here. You're both in danger.”

“What are you talking about?” Hongjoong asks, trying to ignore the weird ache in his chest. “No one’s in danger, why would we be in danger?”

The young man shakes his head frantically, fully hyperventilating at this point. “You don’t understand--” he says, choking on a sob. 

For some reason, the sight of the other man in distress kicks Hongjoong’s ass into gear. “Yunho, find a blanket or something,” he says, ignoring the tremble in his voice. “W-we should get him out.” He looks at the young man. “Can you stand?”

The young man exhales shakily, nodding. He shuffles around and nearly stands before his face twists in pain and he stumbles. Hongjoong, thankfully, is quick to grab him before he falls.  
He doesn’t make any kind of remark about the young man’s body, about his lack of clothes, or about the abundance of scars and bruises littering his entire body. He barely notices that the other man is taller than him as he guides him to the couch. If the young man notices the way Hongjoong’s hands are trembling, he doesn’t point it out. 

“I should--” Hongjoong starts, looking for wherever he dropped the scissors during all this. He turns back around to find Yunho coming back into the room with what looks like every one of his blankets in his arms. Hongjoong finds the scissors on the floor near the box, moving to grab them and get to work on the young man’s binds. 

“Why did you say we’re in danger?” Yunho asks, dumping the blankets on the other side of the couch before picking one up and inching it toward the young man. Hongjoong would scoff at his casual tone if he wasn’t trying so hard to be careful with the scissors. 

“I’m not where I’m supposed to be,” the young man explains. “But h-he has to have your address if I’m here. Once the buyer realizes I’m not coming, he’ll come for me.”

“Who’s ‘he?’” Hongjoong asks as the zip tie finally starts to give. 

“Hongjoong,” the young man answers simply, as if it were obvious.

Hongjoong looks up in confusion once the tie breaks. 

“That’s his name?” Yunho asks.

The young man nods. “He’s,” he says before cutting himself off with a sigh. “I don’t know who he is anymore.” He laughs bitterly, lifting his left arm for emphasis. “Apparently he’s supposed to mean something to me.” 

The comment prompts Hongjoong to look at the young man’s wrist. He sees the name Kim Hongjoong etched onto his skin, and suddenly the world makes no fucking sense.

“What the fuck,” he breathes before he can stop himself.

“What?” The young man asks, holding his arm close to his chest. Hongjoong simply stares at Yunho.

“Hey, um,” Yunho says, “what did you say your name was?”

“Me?” The young man asks, and Yunho asks. “Seonghwa. Why?”

Hongjoong doesn’t hear whatever Yunho has to say, blood screaming in his ears as he all but sprints out of the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this would have taken less time to put up but. bideo game  
> i feel like there are a few things i haven't really explained just yet but i'm working on it!! it's a journey u see.  
> no fun if i tell you everything up front, is there?

Seonghwa watches the young man storm out, and he can’t figure out why he feels like he’s done something wrong.

“Hyung!” The roommate- Yunho, he thinks- steps forward as if he were going to go after him before he looks back. Yunho gives a sheepish smile.  
“I’m sorry about him,” he says. “Hongjoong-hyung is really… weird about the whole soulmate thing.”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows raise at the name. He’s never met anyone else with his soulmate’s name, although he can’t say he really gets out enough to know just how common it is.  
“Has he not found his yet?” He asks, belatedly thinking that that’s a rather rude question.

Yunho inhales, expression unsure. “It’s a bit complicated,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. Are you alright?”

Seonghwa isn’t alright. He doesn’t think he’s been anywhere near alright in over a year, but he nods anyway. This guy doesn’t care, not really. It’s a nicety, something he probably feels obligated to do, seeing as Seonghwa has intruded in such a way—  
“Just a little sore,” he says, cutting off his own train of thought.

Yunho nods in understanding. This is weird, everything about this is so bizarre. None of the others have ever cared about his well being. Even on occasions where he’s been sick of blacked out, the clients would always act like it was such an inconvenience to treat Seonghwa like a person.

“Do you want a shirt or something?” Yunho asks. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Seonghwa says quickly. “I-I’m used to it.” He cringes at his own word choice.

“It’s no problem.” Yunho says. “I can give you one of mine, I doubt any of hyung’s would fit.”

He laughs nervously. Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say.

“I mean, like, because you’re tall,” Yunho says. “I-I wasn’t implying—” He pauses, sighing. “I’ll go look for something. Just make yourself comfortable.”

Seonghwa nods and watches Yunho leave the room. When he thinks about it, maybe he shouldn’t be sitting on a stranger’s couch while completely naked; it just feels a little impolite. He stands, adjusting the blanket so that he’s a little more adequately covered. Blankets can be washed easier than couches, he reasons.

Yunho returns with a pile of clothes in one hand.

“I found some pants, too,” he says. “Don’t worry about, like, returning them, it’s fine, they’re old anyway.” He turns to the left, pointing at a door. “Bathroom is in there, kitchen is around the corner just up ahead. Um.” He shuffles. “I’m going to go find Hongjoong.”

And with that, Yunho is out the door, and Seonghwa is alone again. In this stranger’s apartment with no idea of how this could have happened.

They’ve been doing this for over a year. He doesn’t know how his partner could’ve gotten the wrong address. If any of their regulars have changed their address, surely Hongjoong— _his_ Hongjoong—would have updated that information.

“We can’t afford to be messy,” he’d told Seonghwa. Over and over. Sometimes he’d follow that up with a threat if he ever even thought about running, but the statement stuck with him. They had to be careful.

He didn’t want his soulmate to get in trouble. And that’s the worst part, Seonghwa thinks. He’s going along with this because Hongjoong is supposed to be his soulmate. Sure, he’s in a tough spot, and he’s using some unconventional methods to make money, but if Seonghwa really is a good soulmate, shouldn’t he support him any way he can?

What kind of partner would he be if he didn’t?

He moves to the bathroom with the clothes. He doesn’t think about the bruises the two definitely saw all over him as he dresses himself.

Do they know why he’s in this situation? Have they figured it out? Seonghwa doesn’t think they act like they do. They don’t look at him with disgust.

Would they? Will he have to tell them?

He walks into the kitchen, trying to put a stop to his racing mind. It’s not a very big kitchen, however it’s a little less put together than his own.

Of course, he isn’t allowed to let the kitchen stay dirty for too long at home. He comes back after a week is up, and sometimes it looks like a tornado has gone through the entire apartment. He shakes the thought of his head. He can hear voices from down the hallway.

Are they talking about him? He would assume so.

He doesn’t quite know what to make of the shorter of the two. Hongjoong, apparently. What should he make of him, really?

He’s… volatile. If Yunho hadn’t called him “hyung,” Seonghwa would have assumed he was the younger of the two of them. As Yunho said, Hongjoong is in a complicated situation with his own soulmate, so maybe that’s what the problem is. Maybe his soulmate died and he felt like he was being mocked. Seonghwa doesn’t know, but he finds himself wondering.

Especially with the way he almost seemed to react to Seonghwa’s own emotions. That’s something he hasn’t seen in a long time. Usually if he’s upset, people will ignore him. Even his own soulmate. To Seonghwa, it’s weird for someone to actually recognize his distress, and even weirder for them to react to it.

His throat is kind of dry. He doesn’t know how long he was in transit, but seeing as the sun is out and he left home around midnight, he’d assume it’s been a while. He tries not to think about how far from the only home he has left as he looks for a cup or a mug or something. They probably won’t mind if he uses a glass, right?

* * *

  
He doesn’t know where he’s going.

Hongjoong has no idea where he’s going because he has no _fucking_ idea what’s going on.

Is the universe playing some sort of trick on him? What’s the purpose? What has he done to deserve this? Is this some sort of payback for not looking for his soulmate?

He’s had more important things to worry about than finding Park Seonghwa. He hasn’t had the time to look for his soulmate. What’s so bad about that?

He doesn’t know how long he aimlessly wanders around the narrow hallway before he hears a door open behind him.

“Hyung, what the hell?” Yunho says.

“What do you want me to say, Yunho?” Hongjoong retorts, turning around. “How, exactly, would you like me to react?”

“I don’t know, but we need to take a step back,” Yunho says. “The guy’s obviously freaked out.”

“Oh, _he’s_ —” Hongjoong cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair. “ _I’m_ freaking out, if you haven’t noticed.”

“And I don’t get why,” Yunho replies. “Shouldn’t this be a good thing?”

Hongjoong narrows his eyes as he steps forward.

“Did you happen to miss the part where he said he’d already found his soulmate?” He asks. “Or did I just make that up?”

Yunho laughs incredulously. “Just think about it for a second,” he says. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This other Hongjoong has to be a fraud,” Yunho says conspiratorially, as if he was sharing the secret of the universe with Hongjoong.

“Are you out of your fucking mind,” Hongjoong deadpans. “How the fuck does that make any sense?”

“What did you think, hyung?” Yunho asks, tone patronizing. “That it was just a ridiculous coincidence?”

Hongjoong sighs. “Maybe I did,” he mutters.

“Listen,” Yunho says. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure. But nothing about this adds up the way he seems to think it does. No one in their right mind would be able to hurt their soulmate, and this guy has obviously been through some shit. It’s just not possible.”

Hongjoong nods, even if he doesn’t really know if he believes all that. “You’d know better than I would, I guess.”

“Hyung, surely you know about the empathetic bond by now,” Yunho says. “If Seonghwa is in pain, his soulmate would know, and they would do whatever they had to in order to stop it.”

Hongjoong knows. He just isn’t sure he wants to admit it.

Another door opens, this time right across from their apartment. A very bedraggled Mingi sticks his head out the doorway.

“It’s, like, ten in the morning,” he says, eyes still half-closed. “What are you two doing?”

“Hongjoong found his soulmate,” Yunho says simply. “Sort of.”

A wild shriek comes from somewhere inside Mingi’s apartment, and suddenly the door is swinging open, San standing in the doorway.

“When were you going to tell us?” He says, far too chipper for ten a.m.

“Shut up,” Hongjoong hisses. “We don’t know for sure. Yunho’s just making up conspiracy theories.”

Yunho scoffs. “It isn’t a conspiracy theory,” he says. “You literally have each other’s names tattooed on each other, hyung.”

“But he—”

“Fraud is a thing,” Mingi interrupts. “Like, it isn’t common, but it’s certainly happened before.”

“Don’t tell me you believe him,” Hongjoong whines. “Look, whatever’s going on, I’m sure there’s a more rational explanation than ‘soulmate fraud,’ whatever the hell that means.”

“Hyung, you can’t honestly think it’s all just some big coincidence, and then call that the more rational explanation,” San says. “The universe works in mysterious ways; you don’t need to argue against it.”

“I’m not ready!” Hongjoong says, albeit a little louder than he intended.

The other three look at him, and he doesn’t really care enough to figure out what it is they’re feeling. All he knows is that he isn’t ready to have to face his potential soulmate. There’s still too much left for him to do, there are things he needs to be doing right now, and he’s wasting his time arguing in the hallway.

“Whatever,” he says, turning toward his door and walking back inside the apartment.

He doesn’t really know where he expects to find Seonghwa when he reenters the apartment, but directly to his left in the kitchen certainly isn’t it.  
Seonghwa looks as shocked as Hongjoong feels, eyes wide as he stumbles backwards. He’s dressed, thankfully, and Hongjoong assumes Yunho gave him something of his judging by the way the shirt practically hangs off the other man’s frame. He’s holding a glass, tucking it close to his chest like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

The two lock eyes, and Hongjoong feels himself freeze. Time seems to stop for a moment as he looks into the other’s eyes.  
And suddenly, Seonghwa looks like someone he has known his whole life. He looks like someone that Hongjoong knows in ways that no one ever could. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so irrational that the universe has brought them together somehow. It doesn’t seem so impossible for Hongjoong to live up to the lofty title of “soulmate.”

In a word, Hongjoong is _fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe  
> i'm not really editing these chapters before they go up, can you tell?  
> also not to like beg for comments but please comment i live on the serotonin i get from reading nice comments


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LADS i'm so shocked that this is getting any kind of positive feedback. thanks so much!!!!!! if u have left a comment i love u, if you have bookmarked i love u, if you just leave kudos i love u!!!!!
> 
> idk if i would say this took longer to upload because i think i uploaded around this time last night haha. i'm not good at keeping a consistent schedule, but i've written three days in a row now and that's pretty fuckin neato in my book.

Seojoon is livid. Beyond livid, even.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He says into the phone, desperately trying to keep his tone even. 

The man, Seojoon can’t be assed to remember his name right now, scoffs on the other end. _“I don’t know, I thought I’d give you some time to actually get him here,”_ he says, as if the answer was obvious. 

“I told you Tuesday morning,” Seojoon grits out. “I dropped him down front and everything.”

_“I asked if they’d received anything and they said no!”_ The man says sharply. _“Are you sure you have the right address?”_

“You’re in the complex on Sajik, aren’t you?” 

For a moment, the line is dead silent. Seojoon holds his breath. 

_“No. No I’m not.”_

Seojoon can feel the anger leave his body, cold dread filling his veins. 

He fucked up. He fucked up _tremendously_. He runs a hand over his face before speaking again.

Backpedal. Apologize. 

He can’t afford to lose another client, especially not a regular.

“That’s my fault,” he says. “I must’ve mixed up the address with someone else’s.”

He’s never even had any clients from this complex. 

_“That’s unlike you,”_ the man says as if he were reprimanding a child. _“You’re lucky I like you.”_

“I’m so sorry,” Seojoon says. “I can go find him and have him with you by tomorrow afternoon.”

_“I sure hope so,”_ the man says. _“Minji is so restless. It’s been so long since she’s gotten to play with Seonghwa.”_

Seonghwa. Seojoon’s breath catches in his throat at the name.

_Fuck_ , what has he done?

“We have to fix that,” he says, faking a light tone. “We’ve just been a bit busy with things on our end.”

_“Is he alright?”_ The man asks, and Seojoon knows he could care less about the condition Seonghwa arrives in. He’s had Seonghwa while he was sick before; treated him no different than any other time. Seojoon’s not entirely unconvinced the man wouldn’t just keep Seonghwa’s corpse if he died in transit. 

“Yeah,” Seojoon says, and they both know he’s lying, but he doesn’t offer much elaboration. “Bad experience a few weeks ago, is all.” 

_“As long as he arrives in one piece, we’ll be satisfied,”_ the man says.

Seojoon nods. “I’ll keep you posted,” he says, and he can hear the line go dead.

He keeps the phone held to his ear as he stares at the spreadsheet he has open on his laptop. It’s not so much a spreadsheet as it is a calendar with some additional notes, really. He’s looking over the schedule for the next four weeks, and it makes him want to throw up.

What the fuck is he going to _do?_

The next four weeks that he has scheduled don’t really fit neatly within a single month, but Seojoon doesn’t care much about that, and he knows Seonghwa could care less about the schedule. Each week has a different name under it, and he has a small area for notes on each client; preferred delivery methods, things to look out for, if they’ve gone too far in the past, things like that. 

He winces a little as he skims some of the last sections of the notes. He shouldn’t be allowing clients that bend the rules to become regulars, but he has no choice. He needs the money, especially now that Park Jimin himself is breathing down his neck about making a payment.

Seojoon looks down at his wrist, at the unnaturally raised ink of the name that’s there. He sighs. 

“I’ll find you, Seonghwa,” he says, running his thumb over the tattoo. “You can’t get away that easily.”

* * *

  
  


It’s Seonghwa that breaks the silence.

“I got water,” he says, holding the cup out to show Hongjoong he isn’t lying. “I didn’t know if you would mind. I-I can clean the glass when I’m done.”

Hongjoong nods, expression intense. He blinks. “Oh, no, that’s fine,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Seonghwa nods once, squirming a little under Hongjoong’s gaze. He’s not used to being looked at like… that. He isn’t really sure how to describe it. 

Like he matters, maybe. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Seonghwa blurts, and he can see Hongjoong’s brows furrow out of the corner of his eye as he moves his gaze to the floor. “Yunho-ssi said you’re in a difficult situation with your own soulmate, and I don’t want you to think I was mocking you or anything. I don’t really know–”

“What? No,” Hongjoong interrupts, stepping forward. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Seonghwa looks up, a little startled to see Hongjoong moving closer. “You aren’t mad?” He asks.

Hongjoong shakes his head. “Should I be?” He asks, expression a little confused.

“Maybe,” Seonghwa says. “I’ve been told I’m… difficult.”

Hongjoong’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. Seonghwa doesn’t know how he likes that. He doesn’t like being pitied. 

“I’m sure you’re fine,” Hongjoong says after a beat. “How are you feeling?”

Seonghwa doesn’t see any need to lie to him. “Just tired,” he says. “I don’t sleep well during deliveries, especially,” he gestures in what he thinks is the direction of the living room, “in that.” 

“H-how long were you in there?” Hongjoong asks, tone hesitant, as if he doesn’t really want to know the answer.

Seonghwa shrugs. “We left around midnight,” he says. “I don’t think I was forced in until maybe five. I don’t have a very good sense of time, I guess.” He laughs nervously.

Hongjoong inhales, straightening his posture the smallest amount. Seonghwa supposes it’s a bit odd that he’s able to notice such small changes in someone’s demeanor. 

Hongjoong looks horrified, but in a way that’s more covert, in a way that’s easier to explain away. 

“C-can I ask,” Hongjoong starts, one hand going to hold his elbow in a move Seonghwa recognizes as a way to hide his wrist, “what exactly it is that you do? Why are you being transported in a box?”

Seonghwa stiffens. He knows it was coming, he knows that the other man would want to know, but he still feels unprepared. 

“Can I maybe answer that another time?” He asks, voice hardly above a whisper. He doesn’t want to address it; not just yet. As much as he fears making Hongjoong mad, he fears Hongjoong seeing him as dirty even more. 

That’s new for him, for sure. 

Hongjoong nods. “That’s fine,” he says, stepping back as if to say that he doesn’t want to pry. “You should probably rest anyway. When you go into the living room, my room is on the left. You can sleep in there.”

That takes Seonghwa by surprise. “Are you sure?” He asks. “I don’t want to intrude–”

“You wouldn’t be,” Hongjoong says, expression almost unreadable but somehow… soft. “I’m in the spare room most of the time working, haven’t slept in my bed in about a week.” He smiles. “And it’s at least two steps up from sleeping in a box.”

Seonghwa’s throat tightens, and he tries to keep his composure but he can tell it’s a losing battle. Usually if he isn’t at home he’s on the floor. Some of the clients have been nice enough to provide him with a cheap pet bed in the past, but somehow that’s always felt worse. 

Sleeping in a bed? And he doesn’t even have to worry about his soulmate waking him up at ungodly hours? 

He can’t remember the last time someone’s been this nice to him.

“Can I bring the water with me?” Seonghwa asks, tightening his grip on the glass.

Hongjoong smiles sympathetically; it’s the kind of smile that Seonghwa suspects would look patronizing on anyone else. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll tell the others to be quiet.”

Seonghwa nods, a barely-there movement of the head. As he shuffles out of the kitchen, into the sparsely decorated living room and then into the slightly cluttered bedroom, he feels like he could just pretend that his life is normal again. He can pretend that this isn’t only a temporary reprieve from his hellish existence and that he could stay here forever.

He’s never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next one is going to have some fun stuff!!!! and by fun i mean we're actually going to get to the main conflict and the major angst! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BROS i am so sorry i fell off the face of the earth for a minute there. personal shit, mental health shit, you know how it goes. i'll try and have the second part of this out later today because i'm finally figuring out how to write this thing haha
> 
> also if there are any things in here that aren't super clear PLEASe let me know!!!! i'm kind of just writing this to get the idea out of my head, because it's been festering for a few months, so it might not always be coherent hehe. if you have any questions, feel free to leave them in a comment! while i am a college graduate, being in quarantine has given me brainrot, so like do i even HAVE a bachelor's in creative writing?

The rest of the day, strangely enough, passes by without incident. 

Hongjoong ends up falling asleep a few hours later, and when he wakes up it looks like Seonghwa is still asleep. He doesn’t feel like bothering him, and Yunho confirms that their guest hadn’t been out all day.

“What are we gonna do?” Yunho asks, leaning against the counter.

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong says from where he’s sitting at the bar. “What can we do?”

“We can’t just kick him out,” Jongho says from behind them on the couch. “It doesn’t sound like he has anywhere to go.”

Hongjoong doesn’t mean to flinch at the words, but he does. Just the idea of kicking Seonghwa out makes his chest seize in panic, and the two seem to pick up on his discomfort.

Seonghwa isn’t going anywhere if any of them have anything to say about it. That much is clear.

“Has he told you anything about why he’s here?” Yunho asks in an attempt to change the subject. 

“He didn’t want to talk about it when I asked,” Hongjoong replies. “Just don’t press him on it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Yunho gives him a  _ look. _ “You don’t need to be so defensive.”

“I’m not being defensive.”

“You kind of are,” Jongho replies.

Hongjoong scoffs. He doesn’t like this. Like, he really doesn’t like this. It’s not like his priorities have completely changed within a few hours, he’s not about to rearrange all of his future plans, but he’s starting to think about making some… accommodations.

And it’s weird. It’s unlike anything he’s had to deal with before. He’s never been a very adventurous guy. He’s never had to worry about anyone but himself; he’s always had time to look for his soulmate.

And now he’s here. His soulmate is here, in his apartment, sleeping in his bed, and everything kind of feels like a mess. 

“I have a meeting with Eden-hyung tomorrow,” Hongjoong says, still bewildered that his advisor continues to insist on meeting him early in the morning. “I have a few things I need to finish up before then.” He looks at Yunho. “Let me know when he’s up.”

Yunho nods. “Whenever that is,” he says. “He’s been out, like, all day. Are we sure he’s okay?”

“He’s probably fine,” Jongho says. “Probably just feels safer here than wherever he came from.” He glances pointedly at Yunho. “I know I slept better when I first moved in.”

Hongjoong recalls Seonghwa’s reaction when he told him he could sleep in his bed, and he feels a pang of sympathy. He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t be so resistant to change if he’s doing something good just by being around his soulmate.

He shakes his head, as if ridding himself of the thought, before standing up. Soulmate or not, he has work to do.

* * *

For most of his life, Hongjoong has known that he wanted to make music.

Hell, he's been making music for as long as he can remember, banging on whatever he could get his hands on from a young age. He's never stopped creating, not stopping for a moment. He has a goal in mind, and he knows how he's going to get there. He's going to earn his degree in composition, and he's going to become a producer, and maybe, just maybe, he'll one day be a person he thinks his soulmate would be proud of. 

He doesn’t know how many hours pass before Seonghwa walks in. 

He can sense the other’s presence more than he can hear them. He’d made an effort to keep the volume on his laptop low, just in case, but even then he can barely hear the taller male’s light footsteps on the carpeted floor. Hongjoong turns slowly, careful not to startle him, however he can still see Seonghwa’s eyes widen a fraction as he turns. 

“Did I disturb you?” Seonghwa asks, voice low to keep from waking the others Hongjoong assumes. How late is it?

Hongjoong shakes his head. “You’re fine,” he says. “How do you feel?”

“I’m,” Seonghwa pauses, looking down at his feet. “I’m okay.” His eyes flick up in uncertainty. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Hongjoong says without thinking. Had he heard them earlier and connected the dots? Have they been found out?

“Why are you helping me?”

The question catches Hongjoong off-guard. “What do you mean?” He asks. 

“It would’ve been so easy to just throw me back out on the street and leave me to figure out where I am,” Seonghwa says, tone unaffected, almost casual in an eerie way. “Why didn’t you?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “Why would I do that?” He asks. “Why would anyone?”

“Why not?” Seonghwa says. “I-It’s dangerous, isn’t it? Letting someone into your home.”

“You don’t really look dangerous, no offense,” Hongjoong says. “You mean because of him?”

Seonghwa winces before nodding. “You don’t need to be involved,” he says. “Someone made a mistake, I-I don’t know who, but it happened and now I’m here, and you don’t need to be involved, that isn’t fair.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine-”

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

Hongjoong pauses for a moment. Seonghwa ducks his head, face obscured by his hair. Hongjoong can hear him inhale sharply before speaking again.

“None of you need to get hurt,” he says, sighing. “I don’t know what I’d do-”

“What about you?” Hongjoong asks before he can stop himself.

“What _about_ me?” Seonghwa asks, meeting the other’s eyes. 

“Will you be okay?” He clarifies, even though he feels like he already knows the answer.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seonghwa says with a bitter laugh. “Hasn’t for a while.”

“Then why go back?”

“Where would I go?” Seonghwa retorts. “I have nothing left. Didn’t think I would need anything else. He’s my soulmate, after all.”

He’s angry. Seonghwa may not really show it, but Hongjoong can feel it festering in his own chest. He doesn’t know what prompts him to do it, but he lifts his left arm for the other, and he can feel Seonghwa’s reaction more than he can see it. 

He’s not sure if he’s just made everything better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooo  
> again, please feel free to leave any questions you may have at the moment in a comment!!! and even if u don't have a question, mayhaps you should comment anyway!!! i like those. AGAIN again so sorry for the disappearance hehe


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really do not have an explanation for why this took longer than promised haha.   
> also some housekeeping!! i'm gonna be removing some of the ship tags i originally included because i don't know if they're really gonna be mentioned all that much. i'd like to maybe do more in this universe at some point, but at the same time, the whole purpose of this fic was just to like write it, type it up, and post it without thinking much about it. so, like, no promises at the moment, but it's possible!   
> i've also now included a chapter total!!! i'm putting 9 for right now because i feel like that's enough space to do everything i want to, and also include an epilogue. the number might go down, i sincerely doubt it will go up. much like we're all kind of stuck at home rn, this story is mainly just taking place in one location!!   
> also also i miiiiiight have said that seonghwa is, like, through the worst of it. and while looking at this one, i might have to revoke that statement. oopsie doodle!

Seonghwa doesn’t know what he’s looking at.

Surely it isn’t possible for someone else to have his own name on their wrist, let alone someone that shares his soulmate’s name.

What does it mean?

“Who are you?” He asks, unease creeping into his tone.

“Kim Hongjoong,” Hongjoong says. “And I know that you might not believe me, but I have no reason to lie to you.”

“That can’t be possible,” Seonghwa says, and it can’t. 

It  _ can’t. _ The words race through his mind.

“I don’t get it either,” Hongjoong says, “but I don’t think it’s just a coincidence.”

“How can you know that?”

Hongjoong shrugs. “A feeling,” he says. “How long have you… lived like this?”

Seonghwa isn’t sure what he means. “What-”

“The… getting hurt and being sent around in a box thing,” Hongjoong says, wincing at his own word choice. “How long?”

Seonghwa hesitates, but decides to humor him. “Maybe about a year,” he says. “Why?”

Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “Around a year ago, something changed,” he says, sitting back down. “I started having these really intense panic attacks. Couldn’t find any reason for them, and nothing I tried could stop them.” He pauses, expression turning hesitant. “I went to doctor after doctor, and most of them told me the same thing when nothing worked.” He locks eyes with Seonghwa. “They told me it could be my empathetic bond.”

It makes sense, but the realization both horrifies Seonghwa and fills him with guilt. Did he do that?

_ Did he do that to him? _

Seonghwa shakes his head at the thought, unable to accept it, unable to even try to accept it.

“This other Hongjoong,” the other man continues when Seonghwa doesn’t speak. “You’ve never been able to read him, have you? You never really know how he’s feeling. You can’t understand why he’s done what he has, how he could even think of-”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I do,” Hongjoong replies easily. “I know that I could feel your fear as soon as I saw you. I know that you know I’m right, but you’re afraid to admit it.”

“Stop it,” Seonghwa says, voice sharp. He’s right. He  _ is _ , and Seonghwa hates it.

“I can help you,” Hongjoong says, voice taking on a softer tone. “You don’t have to go back. You don’t have to stay here either, but I can’t let you get hurt anymore.”

Something about Hongjoong’s wording confuses Seonghwa.” _ Let  _ me?”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightens, taking a deep breath. “Every doctor I went to,” he says, “every therapist I spoke to, they all told me the same thing.” He looks down, as if he can’t handle maintaining eye contact. “They told me the only way to know for sure would be to find you.”

The realization feels like being hit by a train. Seonghwa feels like he’s about to combust. 

“And you didn’t.”

Hongjoong looks at him for a moment, eyes apologetic, before his eyes fall to his hands. When Seonghwa looks closer, he notices his thumb running over the name on his wrist.

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” Seonghwa says. “I want you to look at me and tell me why.”

“I,” Hongjoong starts, voice cracking, misty eyes locking with Seonghwa’s, “I was scared-”

“Do you have any idea what has happened to me while you were here feeling  _ scared? _ ” Seonghwa asks through gritted teeth, belatedly noticing the tears falling down his own cheeks. “Do you know what the fuck has been done to me? What I’ve been made into?”

“Seonghwa-”

“I have been shipped all over this goddamn country and made into a fucking  _ doll _ for any disgusting old man with enough money to spare.”

Hongjoong is crying, curled in on himself as sobs wrack his frame. Distantly, Seonghwa can feel his anguish tugging at his heart, but he pushes it aside. 

“I allowed this to happen to me,” he says, and he’s too angry to care about the way he says this with such conviction. “I let this man make me into this because I thought he only wanted to make a better life for the both of us. I let it happen because  _ I thought this was all I had! _ ” 

Seonghwa’s yelling now, hands shaking with anger. He takes a deep breath. 

“You have no right to feel scared.”

And with that, he turns on his heel to leave.

“Wait.”

Seonghwa doesn’t turn around until he feels the hand on his arm.

“Don’t touch me,” he hisses. 

The hand moves immediately, and part of Seonghwa misses it. When he looks at Hongjoong, the other looks... pathetic, is the only word Seonghwa can find in his mind at the moment. His eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, and tears are still spilling down his flushed cheeks. Part of him wants to reach out and comfort him, but again he pushes the urge away. He has to understand, Seonghwa  _ needs  _ him to understand. 

“You can’t expect me to just,” he says, gesturing vaguely with a hand, “expect me to be okay with this. You can’t. I’d resigned myself to this, don’t you get that?” Seonghwa’s voice cracks. “This was just supposed to be another week on the job, and I would go back home, and I would be treated like shit there too, but it’s okay! Because I know he’s only mean to me because he’s stressed. He doesn’t care that I can barely walk after being abused for a solid week and then being crammed into a box. He’s too busy caring about paying off his debt. He doesn’t have time to care about me. And suddenly now I’m supposed to… what? What do you want me to do? You want me to just leave because you don’t like how it makes  _ you _ feel.”

He’s being harsh, he knows that, and he feels it in his chest when Hongjoong flinches, but he needs to say it. Hongjoong has to feel how he’s felt. 

It’s only fair. 

“I didn’t know-” Hongjoong says.

“I know you didn’t,” Seonghwa says simply. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says, and he weakly holds out his arms as if he wants to hug Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa smiles sadly. “I know you are,” he says, turning and walking back to the bedroom. 

He waits until he’s back in bed before he allows himself to cry.

* * *

Morning comes, and Seonghwa doesn’t feel any better. In fact, he feels even worse than before.  Before he can really take inventory, however, he hears the door to the bedroom open and close quickly.  Someone’s in the room with him. 

Seonghwa shifts around in bed, sitting up slowly.  There’s a young man pressing his ear to the door. He might be a bit younger than Seonghwa, but he can’t quite tell. The man notices Seonghwa and startles before turning to face him, smiling.

“Hi,” he says, voice deep but tone light, “I’m sorry for waking you. I-”

“You didn’t,” Seonghwa says, and his throat feels  _ disgusting. _ He winces.

The young man seems undeterred, smiling so wide that his eyes all but disappear. “Sorry for barging in either way,” he says, and Seonghwa notices that he seems to be making an effort to keep his voice down. What’s going on? “I’m San. You’re Seonghwa, aren’t you?”

“How did you-”

“Mingi and I live across the way,” he says. “Yunho-hyung and Jongho are our friends. We came over and then someone came to the door, and they told me to hide out in here.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. “Did they?”

San nods. “I think they’re just paranoid,” he says. 

He doesn’t need to explain. Seonghwa understands.  “Because of me,” he says.

San’s eyes widen before he shakes his head. “I’m sure it might be something else,” he says, and it’s clear that he’s just trying to calm Seonghwa’s anxieties, but it has the opposite effect. “Yunho has already-”

_ “What’s that?” _

The voice cuts through the small apartment. Seonghwa recognizes that voice. 

Hongjoong is here.  _ His  _ Hongjoong is here, looking for him. 

Seonghwa can’t breathe.

He can hear Yunho try to explain something to him, but he can’t make out what he’s saying through the ringing in his ears. In his peripheral, he can see San inch closer to him carefully. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I locked the door. He won’t-”

_ “You have him here!” _ The voice says, and Seonghwa clamps a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.  _ “That’s my fucking box!” _

This can’t be happening. This  _ cannot  _ be happening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^_^/  
> i'm sorry  
> again, if anyone has questions about the universe's rules, stuff about the bond, things like that, please let me know!! i've put quite a bit of thought into how these things work, and i try to show that as much as i can but i sometimes fall short haha
> 
> also my twitter is @cxmellia if you want to get some idea of when i'm updating or you want to hear me scream about my other interests mayhaps,,,, or like if you want to scream at me for this chapter


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahahaaaaaa sorry for disappearing again  
> i don't plan on making this whole thing very long, i'm not good at dragging stuff out, so after this we'll probably have uhhh a shorter chapter with some exposition, the ending, and an epilogue where i include self-indulgent trauma recovery fun stuff because apparently my biggest fantasy at the moment is just moving past my trauma. make of that what you will!!!  
> anyway yeah haha have fun rip @ me idk how to characterize eden so i'm making shit up. this whole thing is me just making shit up though SDJFDKLD  
> also also there's a part that's supposed to sort of describe a panic attack???? i'll try and indicate that with a * but i really skirted around it bc i didn't wanna make Meself anxious by doing that hahah

Hongjoong has never been the biggest fan of the way his advisor checks over his work. 

It goes like this: Hongjoong brings in whatever he has, and Eden sits at his desk, headphones on, and listens to it in complete silence while Hongjoong watches him the entire time. 

As he sits in the same worn chair that he always sits in, he wonders if Seonghwa can feel his anxiety. Is he awake? Would he be able to feel it in his sleep? Hongjoong doesn’t even think about the possibility that he left the apartment sometime this morning. He can’t even go there.

“Something’s bothering you,” Eden says, snapping Hongjoong out of his thoughts as he takes off his headphones. 

That’s another thing; Eden can tell when Hongjoong is distracted or anxious through his work. He isn’t even sure how, and Eden refuses to explain it to him. Usually the answer would be simple, like an exam or an argument with one of the kids. THis time, he isn’t really sure how to explain it. 

“Sort of,” Hongjoong says. “Well, yeah, but I don’t know how to explain it.”

Eden leans forward on his desk, resting his chin on his hands. “I have time.”

Hongjoong sighs. “I found my soulmate, I guess,” he starts. “A-and everything is a mess.”

Eden hums. “How so?” He asks.

He doesn’t want to talk about it, not really. He trusts Eden, he’s known him throughout his entire college career, but he really doesn’t know if he wants to share this with him. Or anyone, if he’s being honest with himself. 

“It’s a very… delicate situation,” Hongjoong replies, knowing Eden will likely get the hint. 

“You feel ill-equipped to handle it,” Eden says.

_ That’s _ an understatement. Hongjoong nods.

“Have I told you about how I met Erika?” Eden asks. 

Hongjoong shakes his head. He’s heard the woman’s name before, but he doesn’t really know exactly how Eden found his soulmate. “You said you found her after a wreck or something once, I think,” he says.

Eden nods. “I’d decided to take another route home one night,” he says, shrugging. “Not sure why, still couldn’t tell you to this day. But I’m glad I did.” He and Hongjoong lock eyes. “If I hadn’t found her, she likely would’ve died on the side of the road.”

Hongjoong raises a brow, and he feels like he knows where Eden is going, but he needs to be sure. “What are you saying?” He asks.

“The universe has a way of putting us where we need to be,” Eden explains. “Surely you’ve heard stories about similar incidents, haven’t you?”

He has. He definitely has. He’s spent many a night binge-reading these stories and working himself into an anxiety attack at the possibilities of his own soulmate ending up in a life-threatening situation. Like, what if he didn’t end up in the right place at the right time? Or what if he  _ did _ and ended up dying in his soulmate’s place? The possibilities are endless. He nods slowly.

“Your soulmate has probably entered your life for a similar reason,” Eden continues. “In many of these incidents, you see a pattern of brushes with death; missing a flight, taking a different route home, or ending up in what feels like the wrong place.” 

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better,” Hongjoong says, and he means it. Could Seonghwa have died if he hadn’t been sent to the wrong address? Would whoever he was being sent to have killed him? Would this other Hongjoong have killed him?

He doesn’t know, and he  _ hates _ not knowing. 

“I’m sure you aren’t putting them in any danger, are you?” Eden asks, and Hongjoong knows he has a point. 

Seonghwa is safe for now. 

So long as he hasn’t gone anywhere.

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong says. 

Eden clicks his tongue. “You worry too much,” he says. “You need to give yourself more credit. You’ve come a very long way, not just musically, but as a person. You need to acknowledge that more.”

Hongjoong nods, unsure of how to reply to the compliment. “Thanks?” He says.

Eden smiles. The rest of the meeting passes without much trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary, but Hongjoong can’t shake the feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. 

By the time they wrap up, the feeling seems to be eating him alive, and though he tries not to show it, he’s sure Eden could see it. In the past, he would simply assume it was his own anxiety. He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse now that he knows better. 

Something is wrong. He should probably call Yunho. 

Hongjoong manages to find a secluded corner among the winding halls of the music building and pulls out his phone. He sees a missed call from Yunho from just two minutes ago. He tries to steady his hands as he calls back, bringing the phone to his ear. 

  
“Hyung,” Jongho says as soon as he picks up, “someone’s at the house.”

Ice cold panic fills Hongjoong’s veins. “Is Yunho talking to them?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Jongho says. “I’m pretty sure he’s just being paranoid, but he seemed really antsy. Told us to hide while he and Mingi handled it.”

“And Seonghwa?” He asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

*

“I don’t know. He’s still asleep as far as I-”

Hongjoong can hear yelling on the other side of the line. He thinks Jongho tries to say something to reassure him, but he can’t hear through the ringing in his ears. 

He drops to the ground, vision blurring. He can’t feel his hands. Is he still holding his phone? Did it drop? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t think he could find it if he tried. 

Someone’s shaking him; he can feel hands, but he can’t focus his vision enough to tell who it is. Where is he? He feels like he’s in two places at once. He can hear screaming. Is he doing that? He can’t tell. 

*

When he comes down, just enough to feel like an actual person again, he’s in a car. When did he get in a car? He looks to his left to find Eden driving the car.

“What happened?” Hongjoong asks, voice hoarse.

“Panic attack,” Eden says calmly. “Don’t know what’s happening, but,” he glances at Hongjoong, and Hongjoong belatedly realizes he still has tears rolling down his cheeks, “it would appear your soulmate is really stressed out.”

Seonghwa. Seonghwa is hurt. “Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Eden reassures. “Just scared, from what your roommate told me. So I just offered to bring you home.”

Hongjoong nods shakily. What had happened at home? It was that man, it had to be, but he still doesn’t know that. He reaches into his pocket, looking for his phone.

“It’s in the bag,” Eden says, “front pocket. Wasn’t sure where else to put it.”

Hongjoong finds his phone, immediately calling Yunho again. This time Yunho actually answers his phone.

_“Hey,”_ he says, and he sounds… tired. Hongjoong would feel worse about it if he wasn’t still so on edge.

“Is he okay?” He asks. 

Yunho sighs. _“I’m going to be honest,”_ he says. _“Not really.”_ Hongjoong clenches his jaw. _“San’s with him, has been all morning, but he’s inconsolable."_

Oh God. Oh fuck. Hongjoong’s heart hurts.

“What happened,” he says through gritted teeth. 

_“This guy came to the door about a half hour after you left,”_ Yunho says. _“Said he was looking for a package he thought got sent here. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. At first, he was fine, and it seemed like he believed me, but then I guess he saw the box and then he just barged in and started screaming. Ended up banging on your door pretty hard.”_

Just hearing about it makes Hongjoong’s heart race with panic. He swallows. “But he never saw him, right?” He asks.

_“No,”_ Yunho replies. _“Mingi and I all but shoved him out the door. He said he’d be back. We let the front desk staff know not to let him back in, but you know how that goes.”_

Hongjoong  _ does _ know how that goes. They chose the place for the price, not for the security. He curses under his breath. 

“We’re here,” Eden says. Hongjoong looks out the window to see the apartment building.

“I’ll be right up,” he says into the phone before moving to exit the car. He looks at Eden. “Thank you.”

Eden nods. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And remember what I said.”

Hongjoong nods in reply. He tries to pace himself as he enters the building, because as much as he would love to run up the stairs and fling open his apartment door, that’s only going to make him more nervous. Plus, he lives on the fifth floor. 

That, of course, doesn’t stop his thoughts from racing as he waits in the elevator. Eden said that it’s basically a fact of life that Seonghwa was brought to him, literally delivered to him, because Seonghwa’s life was in danger. Probably still is, if Hongjoong thinks about it. This man, this imposter, seems very determined to get Seonghwa back, and if Hongjoong knows that he won’t let that happen. He  _ can’t _ . But what is he going to do? What should he do? 

He briefly considers calling one of his parents, but he knows they likely don’t want anything to do with his soulmate problems; they have enough of those on their own. They probably won’t even want to meet Seonghwa, and while at one point the thought made Hongjoong sad, he doesn’t really care anymore. 

That leaves him more or less on his own. He has the kids, sure, but does he want to involve them? Does he think it’s smart to put them at risk? This man knows Yunho and Mingi’s faces, and who knows what kind of connections he has. 

He’s facing this alone, and while the thought might scare him, he feels much more determined to tackle the issue head-on than he did before. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHAH i'm sorry   
> i feel kinda bad that i haven't really included the other boys as much as i would've liked originally, but i'll try and work them into the last few chapters  
> as previously stated, my twitter is @cxmellia!!! if you want updates on what i'm doing then follow me there mayhaps. forewarning that my blocklist is a Mess so if you're blocked don't worry! i'm just an annoying little bitch so just like let me knowdfsgkdgjls  
> once this au is done i'm hoping to work on my bigger, cooler ateez au on my main, and i'll let you all know about that as the time approaches.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN i am so sorry for not updating for a while hhhhh still trying to cope w everything and new issues keep coming up and also i'm redoing my entire animal crossing town. a lot of the work on this chapter has just been trying to get me to sit and write it, honestly, and the first scene took the longest bc i'm very embarrassed when it comes to writing even vaguely sappy shit. hopefully the 2.7k word count on this one makes up for it haha  
> anyways!!!! i'm including jimin in this and my reasoning for jimin being the mob boss has literally just been "i'm tired of this weird ao3 jimin narrative everywhere so jimin is the mob boss now." also we support the kitten yoongi agenda in this house!!!!  
> i know nothing about writing mafia characters like i literally looked up "how to write a mafia au" on google for this shit man. i hope it doesn't show

From what Hongjoong knows about soulmates, every empathetic bond is different. While some bonds may share certain characteristics, no two are ever the exact same. A lot of media likes to push the idea that a stronger empathetic bond indicates a stronger relationship between soulmates, but from what Hongjoong has seen, that isn’t always the case.

As soon as he opens the door to the apartment and steps inside, he’s hit with a wave of emotion so strong that he ends up taking a step back, gripping the doorway for support. 

“Welcome back,” Mingi says from the kitchen counter.

Yunho and Jongho are sitting in the living room, both wearing a similar look of sympathy. Hongjoong doesn’t really hear the commotion coming from his room until his shoes are off. 

He can hear San speaking, but the uncharacteristically low and soft tone of his voice makes it hard for Hongjoong to make out exactly what he’s saying. And then, when he strains his ears, he can hear muffled sobbing, and his feet are moving before he can really think about it.

He can only vaguely see San from where he’s sitting on the bed, mainly because his focus is entirely on Seonghwa. The taller man is curled in on himself, and Hongjoong figures that must be habitual. He should have been here. He knows he should have been here, and he feels bad that he wasn’t.

Hongjoong steps forward, and Seonghwa looks up. For a moment, everything just stops, and for the first time in at least an hour Hongjoong feels like he can breathe without choking on emotion. And then in the next moment, Seonghwa is clinging to him, shaking like a leaf.

“Where were you?” He says, voice hoarse.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around him without much thought, as natural as breathing. “It’s not important,” he says, locking eyes with the other. “I’m here now.”

Seonghwa inhales shakily. “I-I thought he was going to take me back,” he says.

“I know,” Hongjoong replies, moving to wipe the tears off Seonghwa’s face, “but you aren’t going anywhere. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“B-but I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hongjoong says smoothly. “You can yell at me all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Seonghwa hesitates for a moment before burying his face in Hongjoong’s shoulder.

They need to talk. Hongjoong knows they need to talk, and he’s sure Seonghwa does too, but that can wait. It’s going to have to wait.

* * *

Park Jimin prides himself on his work not only as a successful businessman, but as Busan’s most successful up-and-coming mob boss.

No part of his journey has been easy, and he isn’t particularly proud of all of the things that he’s done, but he doesn’t let it keep him up at night. He’s proven himself to be a loyal member of the Bangtan Crime Syndicate, the same mob whose men shaped him into the man he is today. Jimin knows who he is, above all else, and he lets nothing else get in the way of that.

However, even he must admit that the paperwork gets boring. His hyungs had warned him that being a mob boss isn’t like how it is in the movies, and most of the time Jimin considers it better than any film, but he’s been sitting at his desk for four hours now. So when his phone rings, he’s more than happy to jump at the chance to take a break. As he picks up his phone, he sees the caller ID and smiles.

“How’s my kitten doing today?” He coos as soon as the phone is at his ear.

Yoongi huffs a laugh. “I’m okay,” he says. “I-I hate to interrupt-”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Jimin cuts him off. “I always have time for my baby.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi whines. “Listen, you know I don’t like to ask for favors, but you know Younghwan-hyung?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s met the man a few times at events he’d attended on campus with Yoongi. A lot of the time, Jimin worries about allowing Yoongi to work such a public job, especially after The Incident, but his soulmate fought him on it. A lot. 

Jimin can’t say no to him, unfortunately. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah, he’s fine,” Yoongi says quickly. “One of his kids, a grad student, or something, he’s having… he’s in a weird situation with his soulmate. Found him screaming his head off in the hallway earlier today. Hyung handled it and then I asked what the hell was going on. Turns out the kid’s soulmate is in some sort of kidnapping situation or something-”

“Babe, we don’t do all that,” Jimin interrupts, sensing Yoongi’s nerves. 

“I know that,” Yoongi says, “I asked for a name and I thought you might know something or maybe you could have Taehyung search the kid’s name, I don’t know-”

“Hey,” Jimin says softly. “Take a breath, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

He pauses for a moment, allowing Yoongi to gather his thoughts. “What’s his name?”

“Park Seonghwa,” Yoongi says, and Jimin freezes.

Shit. Fuck. He  _ does _ know that name. Doesn’t even have to double-check.

Now, to clarify: Jimin is a good businessman. He likes to think of himself as a rather forgiving man. He manages property, renting out buildings or shops to people trying to start their own businesses. He thinks that his rent is relatively fair, although some may disagree with him. He’s even gone so far as to cover the first few months if a business needs some help getting off the ground.

Enter Choi  _ fucking _ Seojoon.

At first, Jimin really liked Seojoon. He did. He reminded Jimin of himself; young, bright-eyed, ready to start a business. Does he really understand what exactly he was trying to sell? No, and after these few years, he’s all but forgotten what it was anyway. However, the business failed, and Seojoon moved on, but the loans remained unpaid. 

Jimin has been as patient and forgiving as he possibly could be. He was ready to just shoot the rat bastard in the face when Seojoon proposed another type of business. 

He wanted to rent out human beings on a weekly basis. On the dark web. Now, Jimin likes to think he’s pretty tech-savvy, but the dark web stuff was always Taehyung’s thing. So he said “fuck it” and directed Seojoon to Taehyung. He said he would allow Seojoon to use their resources to start this thing up, but Jimin would get 90% of the profits. 

The strangest part, Jimin thinks, is that he seemed to already have someone in mind for the whole thing. 

He’d shown Jimin his blank wrist and it seemed to make sense. Jimin isn’t an expert on soulmates, but he knows as well as anyone else that people with blank wrists aren’t always… right. He’d then gone on to show Jimin this binder of photos, all of the same person. All Jimin could do was point him in the direction of some of their affiliates that would do tattoos that might not be legal. 

And now the whole operation is blowing up in both of their fucking faces, it would seem. 

“Goddammit,” Jimin says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Is that bad?” Yoongi says. 

Jimin sighs. “Quite,” he says. “Baby, you know that I care about Younghwan as if he were family. I can’t just-- fuck.”

“You feel like you have to do something,” Yoongi says, and  _ God _ what did Jimin do to deserve a soulmate that understands him so well?

“I’d be going against my own values if I let it slide,” Jimin replies, standing and starting to pace. “Do you know this kid? Was he one of yours at some point?”

“A year or so ago, I think,” Yoongi says. “I mean, regardless, the music department is pretty close-knit anyway. We all know each other.”

“Yeah,” Jimin mutters. Fuck, this is bad. “You know that guy that’s still paying me off after like three years?”

“Oh, no,” Yoongi says. “Seojoon, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I wanna know what he’s doing with this boy?” 

Jimin swallows. “Absolutely not, and I don’t think I would even tell you if you did.”

“That’s fair,” Yoongi says.

Jimin runs a hand through his hair. He’s very serious about caring for his family, and Younghwan has worked his way into their family over the years. He’s a very understanding man, and he helped Yoongi readjust after The Incident. If Jimin is honest, he owes the man his life. And he knows that if he’s anything like Yoongi, he cares a lot about his students.

“Look,” he says. “I’ll handle it personally, okay? Don’t worry about it, baby.”

“W-what are you going to do?” Yoongi asks, nervousness creeping into his voice. 

“I’m just gonna pay these kids a visit for right now,” Jimin clarifies, taking care to reassure Yoongi that he isn’t going to kill anyone if he doesn’t have to. “I have some questions.”

* * *

Hongjoong wakes up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. As much as he would love to stay in bed, he knows that he doesn’t have that luxury right now. Not after yesterday.

He does his best to detach himself from Seonghwa without waking the other up, and manages to make it out of the bed before he feels a hand grab his wrist. 

“Don’t leave,” Seonghwa whines. 

Hongjoong smiles softly. ”I’ll be right back,” he says, moving to hold the other’s hand. “Just go back to sleep.”

Seonghwa pouts but drops his head back on the pillow. As Hongjoong steps out into the living room, the doorbell rings again. He sees Yunho open his door, peering out with a confused expression on his face.

“I got it,” Hongjoong says. 

Yunho gives him a wary glance before heading back to bed. 

The man at the door is… strange. He’s maybe only a few centimeters taller than Hongjoong, but he seems to tower over the younger. His eyes are kind, but his posture conveys an intimidating level of confidence. 

“C-can I help you?” Hongjoong asks. 

“Are you Kim Hongjoong?” The man asks in reply, and he seems to have an accent Hongjoong can’t quite place. Before he can ruminate on it, however, he realizes what the man is asking, straightening his own posture.

“Who wants to know?” He replies. 

The man chuckles. “I’m a friend of Eden-ssi,” he says. “May I come in?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen, bowing slightly as he moves aside to let the man in. “Absolutely!” he says. “I’m sorry.”

The man steps inside, carefully removing his shoes with a smirk. 

“From what I’ve been told you have every right to be suspicious,” the man says.

What?

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong asks. “What do you know?”

The man steps closer. “Listen,” he says. “You’re in a bit of a tough spot, and it’s partly my fault, so I’m here to help.” He crosses his arms.

Hongjoong raises a brow. “I don’t know what-”

The bedroom door swings open.

* * *

Seonghwa really, truly, honestly didn’t think this entire ordeal could possibly get any worse.

And now  _ Park fucking Jimin _ is in the apartment, and he’s probably going to be taken away from the only place he’s felt safe in over a year. 

He wrenches the bedroom door open, stepping into the living room. Hongjoong looks over at him, expression turning concerned comically fast. 

“Why is he here,” Seonghwa demands.

Hongjoong steps closer carefully, and Seonghwa wishes he would stop treating him like a frightened animal. “He’s a friend of my professor’s,” he says. “He can help.”

Seonghwa scoffs. “Is that what you’re going with now?” He says, talking over Hongjoong’s head. God, why does Jimin insist on dyeing his hair such garish colors? Why is his hair pink? Is he trying to make himself look less threatening? “Is this another act?”

“I’m telling the truth, Seonghwa-ssi,” Jimin says. 

“What are you going to do?” Seonghwa says, voice raising in volume as he grows more panicked. “Are you going to take me back? Are you going to kill me for fucking up your little scheme?”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong chides.

Jimin uncrosses his arms, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he says. “Like Hongjoong-ssi said, I know Eden, or, well, my husband does, and he passed your story onto me.” He takes a step closer. “I want to help you get out of this.”

“Why?” Seonghwa retorts. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m literally here because of you.” 

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I’m as fed up with Seojoon’s shit as you are, Seonghwa,” he says. “Believe me.”

Seojoon. Is that his real name? He knows that man isn’t his actual soulmate, but to have that confirmed so plainly is jarring. Hasn’t he even used that as an alias? 

Oh wow. Seonghwa feels stupid. 

Jimin speaks up again. “I’m mainly just here to ask questions.”

Hongjoong looks back at the man. “Wait,” he says. “Who even are you? How does Seonghwa know you?”

“He’s a goddamn mob boss, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong turns back to him with wide eyes. “ _ Seojoon _ , I guess, owes him money. ‘S why I’m here.” 

“Why does Eden-hyung know a mob boss?” Hongjoong asks, pivoting his body so that he’s facing both Seonghwa and Jimin. 

Jimin waves a hand dismissively. “Not important,” he says. “Point is, there’re a few things I need to know to do this properly. Seojoon still owes me a lot of money, but if I’m honest, I don’t fucking care about that anymore.” He clenches his fists. “I’ve never had to deal with such an insufferable little rat in all my years.”

“I’m sure,” Seonghwa mutters. “What do you want to know?”

“Has he told you anything about the financial side of our agreement?” Jimin asks, righting his posture. “Do you know what the profit split is supposed to be?”

He does. Seojoon has had a lot to say about the profit split over the years. Seonghwa inhales.

“He told me 70% went to you,” he says, and Jimin’s reaction is immediate, eyebrows shooting up and eyes widening so far that Seonghwa worries they’ll fall out of his head. 

“That right?” Jimin asks, and Seonghwa nods.

“I’m assuming that’s… not right,” Hongjoong says. 

Jimin turns to him. “I told him 90% would go to me,” he says, smiling ruefully. “I knew something wasn’t adding up.” He looks at Seonghwa, giving him a once-over. “I don’t want to sound crass, but I know you’ve got to be worth far more than whatever he was paying me.”

Seonghwa flinches. “And?”

“Do you know where he was putting the money he was stealing from me?” Jimin asks, crossing to the sofa and sitting. “What was he doing with all of that?”

Seonghwa hesitates. “He was… saving up for something,” he says. “A-a trip.” 

Jimin crosses his legs. “Trying to escape me?” He suggests.

“Probably,” Seonghwa says.

Of course, he isn’t about to say that Seojoon made it sound so much nicer than that. They were going to move to some small European country he could never figure out how to pronounce. He would tell Seonghwa about it when he would get back from particularly bad clients or after particularly bad arguments. He would tell Seonghwa about the house they would own in the mountains, far from anyone else, as he patched up his wounds. 

“Doesn’t that sound good?” He would say. And it did. It always did. And Seonghwa would say yes, and he would ignore the cold emptiness that he felt as he said it. Because it  _ did _ sound good, but it never sounded  _ real _ . 

“Hey,” Hongjoong says softly, suddenly right next to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa looks up, snapping out of his thoughts and locking eyes with Hongjoong.

“Are you both done?” Jimin says. 

Seonghwa looks over at him. “What are we going to do?” He asks.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jimin replies. “I’ve been looking for any reason to get rid of the weasel, so you don’t have to do anything.” He stands. “I have a plan.” 

Jimin moves toward the door. Hongjoong and Seonghwa simply watch him put on his shoes and open the door. 

“Stay inside tomorrow,” he says. “Don’t answer the door until I give you the all-clear. You know, just in case.”

“How are you-”

“I already have your number, Hongjoong-ssi,” Jimin says, smiling back at the two. “I’ll be in touch.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa watch silently as Jimin leaves. Hongjoong is the first to speak.

“What just happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally i had a whole thing in the beginning note about something i wanted to ask you all about, but then i came to a decision myself.  
> so i'm mainly here to gauge ur interest.   
> i'm thinking about writing a follow-up for this? and include a lot more of the trauma recovery as well as maybe a few flashback scenes because i like suffering. i don't plan on writing anything super graphic despite a lot of the implications in this fic, not really even because i'm a weenie, but because i've still got a bit of a moral hangup on that one. but yeah! i'd also actually make an effort to include the others, i know i've completely neglected woosang and i am SINCERELY sorry bc i love them.   
> so yeah! if you would be interested in more of this universe, please let me know!!! if there's a concept you would like to have more info about, i'd be happy to give it!!!  
> and again my twitter is cxmellia!!! i'm kinda in this weird in-between stage bc i purged my tl a little while ago, but we're getting back into it hehe  
> i hope to actually finish this particular part of the story very soon, mainly because i really don't want it to last longer than a month, maybe six weeks. i'm trying to give myself some deadlines as a way to prevent myself from just sitting on the remaining, like, two chapters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this is embarrassing  
> i meant to update earlier in the month but i've been dealing with a bunch of physical health shit now? very fun. so i've been out of commission literally all month lmao. it's improving though! i'm good.  
> anyways! i decided that as penance, i'm going to explain some things abt the universe's rules re: soulmates and stuff. doesn't feel like penance at all bc this stuff keeps me up at night and i need to get it out, but it's more content for you all. so!
> 
> the main two components here are the soulmate-identifying marks/names and the empathetic bond. the names don't appear on a specific day like on someone's birthday or anything. experts have concluded that they usually crop up around the time someone is 20, but it could be slightly sooner or later.  
> i've also thought about the linguistics of this? because like what if someone's soulmate speaks another language. very important question, i know. i think i decided that the soulmate's name is usually written in that soulmate's specific language. like, if someone's soulmate's mother tongue was japanese, their name would be written in japanese, no matter if their soulmate speaks the language or not. same goes the other way. i maaay or may not explain that a little more later on. we still have a little time left!  
> the empathetic bond has been hard to figure out, but i think i have it now. there isn't any real way to measure the strength of an empathetic bond, but experts are working on a way to get a better idea. at this point, there haven't been too many experiments to measure bond strength, and the ones that have been done have been rather inconclusive.  
> so, i don't feel like i have to say this, but i'm gonna just reiterate that here, seongjoong have a preeeeetty strong empathetic bond, and in cases like their's, it can be really hard for someone to differentiate emotions, especially if the two haven't met yet. there are ways to work on untangling these emotions, but it requires a lot of concentration and a lot of practice. i think of it as a form of mindfulness. may or may not get into that.  
> there are also people who grow up and never receive a name on their wrist. again, very little research has been done on these individuals, but many have observed that antisocial behavior is more common in those without a name. i actually have a bit about that here! in this chapter!  
> i've had a hard time squeezing a lot of this exposition into the story, especially because so far the story really only shows the events of like a few days. we're on, like, day three and four in this chapter. everything has been pretty fast and urgent, so i've not had a lot of time to slow down and explain a lot. however, i did manage a little bit of that this time around, i think! so yeah

Here’s the situation: Seojoon had needed money. A lot of money – money that he definitely didn’t have. He was twenty-two, maybe twenty-three, when he first met Park Jimin. Now, Seojoon knew very little about how, well, anything worked, so he really had no idea what he was getting himself into when he took out a loan with Jimin. 

Park Jimin, the businessman, is known for being a very charismatic man. He can get anyone to agree to anything with the right words, and Seojoon learned that the hard way. It’s hard for Seojoon to remember a time where he admired Park Jimin. He tries very hard not to think about his early 20s, cringing at the distant memory of his enthusiasm for his own business. 

If only his younger self could have known where he would end up. 

He’d heard stories about people without names on their wrists who would go off and do all sorts of depraved shit, but he always felt like he was above all of that. If he tried hard enough, he could be a good person regardless of his blank wrist. People would view him as an equal, and it’s not like everyone had to know about his predicament, right?

That changed when he first saw Seonghwa. 

He can’t really explain what happened. To this day, he can’t really wrap his head around it. It was as if a switch flipped in his brain. Seojoon asked himself, still asks himself, if that was what it felt like when someone met their actual soulmate. Was it this intense for everyone? Suddenly, nothing else had mattered to him. He didn’t care that Jimin was breathing down his neck, threatening to ruin his life if he didn’t get his money. 

_ As if there was anything left to take, _ Seojoon had thought at the time. 

Maybe he didn’t quite understand what he was getting Seonghwa into when he started his latest business venture. It honestly just depends the kind of mood Seojoon is in when asked about it, at this point. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore.

Most of the time, he thinks he just wants it all to stop.

“I found your boyfriend,” Jimin says, and Seojoon is… confused, mainly.

He’d had every intention of calling Jimin as soon as he’d left that apartment building the day before. He decided it was probably best to stay in town, so he just wandered around a bit and slept in his car in some deserted parking lot. 

“How did you-”

“Oh you know me, Seojoon-ah,” Jimin interrupts. “Eyes and ears all over the place and all that. Listen, everything is fine, but I’d say wait until tomorrow to worry about picking him up. It’s late, you know?”

Seojoon nods. “Th-that’s fine,” he says. “I’m still… I was there yesterday, they kicked me out, I’m still in the area. Is he okay?”

“Not a hair out of place,” Jimin reassures. 

Seojoon sighs in relief. He doesn’t know much about the two that he met the other day; they seemed harmless, but he just can’t say for sure. 

He asks before he can think about it. “Did they hurt him?”

“Seojoon-ah,” Jimin says patronizingly. “They’re a bunch of confused college kids. If I thought they’d tried anything, they’d be dead.”

“Okay,” Seojoon says. “You said I could meet you tomorrow? I can come now if that-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jimin says. “I’m sure you’re more than willing to rush over, but I can assure you he’s okay. You trust me, don’t you?”

He doesn’t. They both know he doesn’t trust Jimin.

“Of course,” Seojoon says with a wince, and he can almost hear Jimin’s grin through the phone. 

“Perfect!” The man chirps. “Just get some rest for now, alright? I’ll give you the info in a minute.”

Seojoon nods. “Thank you,” he says, and he’s a little taken aback at how sincere he sounds. 

“Seojoon-ah,” Jimin says warmly. “You remind me a lot of myself, have I ever told you that?”

“A few times,” Seojoon replies. “Don’t always know if it’s a compliment, but you know.”

Jimin chuckles. “I do know,” he says. “Can’t say I always mean it as one, either. But I mean it. I like you, Seojoon, and I pride myself on my honesty. You know why I’ve worked with you on your repayments for so long? Because I know you’re a man of your word.”

Seojoon swallows. Something about the tone of Jimin’s voice sets him on edge. “Of course,” he says. “A-and I appreciate your cooperation, Jimin-ssi.”

Jimin exhales. “You would never lie to me,” he says. “Would you?”

He knows something. There’s no way he doesn’t know something. 

“Of course not,” Seojoon says, laughing lightly in an attempt to cut through the tension. “Why would you say that?”

“No reason,” Jimin says. “But in my line of work, one can never be too careful, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Seojoon says quickly. “Of course.”

Jimin exhales. “I’ll see you soon, Seojoon-ah.”

* * *

  
  


Seonghwa isn’t sure any of this feels real.

So much has changed over the course of just a few days. None of this was supposed to happen; he was just supposed to spend another week with some nasty old man and his suspiciously young girlfriend, and now in less than 24 hours this whole nightmare is going to be over. 

What is he supposed to do? What is anyone meant to do in a situation like this?

Of course, to cope, he’s hidden away in Hongjoong’s room, curled into himself as tightly as he can manage in the center of the bed. It's a habit, at this point. Everything feels so  _ off _ , and for a day or two, Seonghwa was able to ignore it, but now that he has time to really think about it, it’s painfully obvious. Like, what’s going to happen when all of this is over? Is he gonna be allowed to just stay here? 

Does he even want to do that? 

Seonghwa is so lost that he barely notices when the bedroom door opens. 

“Are you… okay?” Hongjoong asks, and Seonghwa starts a little. When did it get dark? 

He nods, unsure if Hongjoong can even see him. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“Is that why you’re sitting here in the dark?”

“It wasn’t dark when I started,” Seonghwa defends. 

Hongjoong chuckles. “Okay,” he says. “I got a text from Jimin. He said there’s been a slight change of plans; we don’t have to worry about anyone showing up here anymore.” He pauses for a moment, like he wants to say something more. “He also said that if there’s anything you need from… your old house, I guess? Just let him know. Or, let  _ me _ know and I can tell him, I’m sure you don’t want to talk to him.”

“Are you friends with him now?” Seonghwa asks lightly, amused at the absolute word-vomit he’s being subjected to.

“Of course not!” Hongjoong says. “He just offered, is all.”

Seonghwa watches him walk to one of the bedside tables and turn on the lamp, a dim warm light filling the room. 

“You’re worried,” Hongjoong says. 

Seonghwa knows it’s pointless to argue. “I am,” he says. 

“I can’t exactly read your mind,” Hongjoong says, sitting on the edge of the bed, “but I can think of a few things you might be worried about.”

Seonghwa raises a brow. “Like?”

“You can stay here,” Hongjoong says, and he sounds so sincere it throws Seonghwa off. “You don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Seonghwa blinks. “Are you sure?” He asks. 

Hongjoong hesitates for a minute, as if he isn’t sure what to say. “I think,” he says carefully, “that you’re where you need to be.” 

As soon as he says it, Seonghwa can feel himself agreeing. Even with everything going on, he feels safer here than he ever did with Seojoon. On some level, he knows no one here is going to let him get hurt, and that means something to him. It means that  _ he _ means something to someone else, and it’s a foreign feeling, but it certainly isn’t bad. 

Seonghwa doesn’t want to argue Hongjoong on that, ultimately. But there’s something else he needs to know. 

“When you mentioned that you were… scared,” he says, “what did you mean by that?”

Hongjoong sighs, scooting closer. “I,” he begins, before pausing to think. “My parents weren’t exactly the best example of a good soulmate relationship.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Hongjoong says, “for a long time it was fine. More than fine, I thought, but maybe I’m wrong. My mom ended up cheating on my dad.” He laughs, short and bitter. “I didn’t even think that was possible, you know? I think that’s why…” Hongjoong trails off, shaking his head.

“You haven’t dated,” Seonghwa finishes for him. “At all?”

“It never felt right,” Hongjoong says. “That’s not important, though. My dad was devastated. I don’t remember a lot of what was said, but I remember shouting. I was maybe thirteen? I don’t remember.” He grimaces. “I remember that my dad had asked why and she told him it was because he ‘wasn’t enough,’ whatever the hell that means.” He looks up, eyes shining as they meet Seonghwa’s. “Like, how do you do that? To anyone?”

Seonghwa shakes his head, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I don’t know,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “Did she leave?”

“That,” Hongjoong says, “that’s where it gets even messier. She… got in an accident. I,” he pauses, taking a minute to compose himself. “I can’t put into words how horrific that was. Their bond, my parents’ bond, it wasn’t  _ intense _ usually, but when it happened…” 

Seonghwa can feel it. He can feel the fear Hongjoong felt, the fear he's re-experiencing by just recounting what happened. He inhales sharply. 

“It was like he was there in the car with her, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, clamping a hand over his mouth. He looks up at the ceiling, attempting to stop the tears from falling. “D-Did you know that can happen? Some people can feel their soulmate’s physical pain? Isn’t that awful?”

Seonghwa inhales shakily. “You don’t-”

“No,” Hongjoong says. “Never from you, I don’t think. It’s always just been emotional from you.”

Seonghwa nods, and he belatedly realizes he’s crying too. “So she stayed with you two.”

Hongjoong hums in affirmation. “I never told my dad this,” he says, voice thin, “but I think he would’ve been better off if she’d died. Like, he can hardly function anymore, and he has to take care of her, she can’t even walk on her own. They gave her all this shit for pain and she’s been on it ever since. It changed her, Seonghwa, I don’t even know how to explain it. I can hardly stand to be around either of them anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says, and he doesn’t really know what else to say. What  _ can _ he say, really? 

“You know something, though?” Hongjoong asks. “My dad has given up everything for her, he’s done all of this shit, he’s taken care of her all these years after she broke his heart, and she still treats him like shit!” He shrugs. “Like, he could leave tomorrow and she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself, but that doesn’t matter! Sometimes I think she knows he can’t leave. They’re literally destined to be together, and she manages to make him feel like that never mattered. And I think that’s why I’ve been so… reluctant for so long. To find you. I-I didn’t want to end up not being enough, I guess.” 

For a long time, Seonghwa hasn’t really known what to do with his emotions. It’s never been on that high on his list of priorities, if he thinks about it. Top priority has always gone to just… surviving. Trying to cope with his new reality. It’s been hard to allow himself to just feel.

And now, it’s like all of it is hitting him in the face. And it isn’t only his own repressed hurt, but Hongjoong’s as well. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced, a level of pain he isn’t quite used to.

“Is this how it feels?” He asks before he can help it. He meets Hongjoong’s eyes. “D-did I do  _ this _ to you?”

Hongjoong shakes his head fervently, and before Seonghwa can blink he’s pressed to the other’s chest.

“It isn’t your fault,” Hongjoong says. “None of it was ever your fault. Don’t blame yourself for that.”

Seonghwa nods, returning the hug, and he figures maybe Hongjoong is right.

He’s right where he needs to be. 

* * *

Jimin doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.

Typically, if he needs someone taken care of, he’ll send Seokjin out to do it. Jimin has known that man for years, and he still doesn’t quite know the guy, but he’s good at his job, if not a little too enthusiastic at times. However, he supposes this time it’s a little more personal. 

He’s covered nearly the entire room in plastic. While he could easily pay the hotel staff for the additional hassle of having to clean blood stains, Jimin wasn’t raised in a barn. Plus, he likes this place; he doesn’t want to get on the staff’s bad side. 

Yoongi might like a place like this, Jimin muses, waiting for the telltale knock at his door. He might not always show it, but Yoongi quite likes being spoiled, and luckily, Jimin also loves to spoil him. The elder has taken a liking to jewelry lately, and Jimin is always more than happy to find more to add to his collection. He often wonders what he did to deserve such a sweet soulmate. At first, Jimin worried that they wouldn’t work together, not with the plans that he’d laid out for himself. Of course, fate has a weird way of bringing soulmates together sometimes, and Yoongi ended up dragged into some business with a rival gang, back before Jimin had even taken over the syndicate. 

He’d taken a huge-ass risk in trying to kidnap a rival gang’s hostage, but he likes to think everything worked out how it was supposed to. 

There’s a knock at the door, and Jimin is brought back to the present. He holsters his gun and walks to answer the door. 

It’s time to end this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since this is essentially the end of the main story, i wanted to try asking again what people would want to see from the epilogue, or even if they would want to see more of what happens after all of this. i think i've asked about multiple new perspectives as well? i might end up doing it either way, but i wanna know if that's something anyone would be interested in, because i could probably get in a few additional chapters in that case. let me know!  
> also my twitter is still cxmellia! i also posted another au on my main account, it's in script, so it's a little different from this, but i have high hopes for it!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... alright.  
> i'm not giving any kind of excuse this time lmao i've just had a hard time finding motivation because i feel like none of my work is, like, worth anything.  
> anyways!! i keep thinking about ways to really explain the story i'm trying to tell, and i feel like the best way to do that is to... keep going. a little bit. so rather than nine chapters, we may be looking at uhhhh 11? 12? idk. more than nine! i feel like i have a bit more ground to cover, and i feel bad for leaving Literally Everyone that Isn't Seongjoong out. i was still relatively new to the fandom when i started, so i wasn't really familiar with everyone in the way i might be with, like, bts, for example.  
> i want to say that i wanna revamp parts of the entire fic, but it would take me like 400 years, but if anything major changes, i'll let you all know. i definitely wanna fix up the tags before anything else since i did end up straying from my outline quite a bit with this one. so like yeah.
> 
> also as an addendum with the newer stuff, there's a bit more discussion about the actual traumatic events, and mentions of at least one medical condition as a result. it's nothing,,,, graphic but like just fyi but i mean the whole chapter is in a hospital so like. you know. it's to be expected.

Hongjoong is no stranger to hospitals.

Ever since the accident, he’s been through the whole ordeal at least a thousand times; getting up at ungodly hours, being yelled at to call an ambulance, trying to remember what medications his mother had taken that day. Is she still on that one? No, they’re trying something else now to counteract this new symptom. What about Dad? 

He’s been in and out of his local emergency room with either one or both of his parents that the staff knew him by name. Even after he moved out, when he still talked to his parents, they would call saying that the nurses said hello last night, this morning, they’re here right now, actually, let me put you on speaker.

He knows how it goes. And he knows that, realistically, there have definitely been times where they would have been fine even without another trip to the hospital.

With Seonghwa, however, it’s… different. 

Hongjoong has had maybe two full nights of sleep since they got the news that Seojoon had been dealt with, and it has been about ten days since then. A fun, cool fact that Hongjoong’s teachers seemed to overlook in _every single lesson_ about empathetic bonds that Hongjoong has said is that when someone has nightmares, their emotions can bleed into the bond. Whether their soulmate is awake or not.

They haven’t had a proper talk about everything yet. Seonghwa and Hongjoong haven’t really had the time or the energy to sit down and discuss exactly what Seonghwa has been through, and Hongjoong doesn’t really expect him to.

However. _However_ . There have been at _least_ four nights where Hongjoong has woken up and he was convinced Seonghwa was being fucking _murdered._

So, like, some insight would be nice.

What exactly happened? For some background, Seonghwa and Hongjoong usually sleep in the same bed. It’s easier, really, and most of the time Hongjoong is up late anyway, so Seonghwa is usually asleep long before Hongjoong. Or anyone. 

“It’s normal,” San had told him when Hongjoong had asked one day. “He’s dealt with a lot of shit, so it’s going to take some time to readjust. It’ll work itself out.”

For a few days, Hongjoong left it at that.

Until he couldn’t.

Hongjoong woke up in a cold sweat gasping for air in the middle of the night. For a minute, he didn’t really understand what was happening; it’d happened before, but it’s always disorienting. 

It happened before he could even fully register what he was hearing. From his right, he could hear a scream, almost like someone is in pain, followed by a hard _thunk,_ followed by a slightly softer _thud_ to the floor.

And that’s when he figured it out. 

“Seonghwa?” He called quietly as he got up, turning on his bedside lamp as he walked over.

Hongjoong found him on the floor curled in on himself, eyes squeezed shut in pain. He was on his knees in an instant, crawling over to the older gently.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and Seonghwa tensed up immediately.

“I-I’m fine,” Seonghwa said, moving to sit up as best as he can with one hand still clutching his temple. “‘M sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong said, moving closer. “Did you hit your head?”

Seonghwa nodded, pressing himself against the side of the bed. 

“Hey,” Hongjoong said, lightly placing a hand on Seonghwa’s wrist. “You’re okay. I’m not upset with you.”

Seonghwa said nothing, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Can I see?” Hongjoong asked, his thumb unconsciously rubbing circles into Seonghwa’s wrist. 

Seonghwa nodded again, slowly lowering his hand. Hongjoong tried not to react too severely.

Hongjoong has dealt with blood before. His mom was certainly no stranger to falls, and he knew basic first aid. There’s just something so… jarring about seeing Seonghwa hurt. 

It isn’t bad, and he knew that. They could easily care for the wound at home, and everything would probably be fine. He _knew_ this.

And yet Hongjoong still felt the need to overreact.

So here they are. It’s somewhere between 2 AM and 6 AM, Hongjoong can’t really tell anymore. The nurses had been merciful enough to sedate him so that he could figure out all of the technical shit while they still tried to at the very least convince Seonghwa that the doctors weren’t trying to hurt him, so Hongjoong can hardly see straight at this point. Of course, this hasn’t stopped him from feeling obligated to stay awake while Seonghwa is asleep. 

Like, just in case.

Yeosang walks in with Yunho, and Hongjoong winces at the sight of them.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he says. “We’re gonna be here at least overnight, you could’ve just gone back home.”

“Shut up,” Yeosang says, sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room. “Did you get everything sorted out?”

Hongjoong nods numbly. “I just can’t stop thinking about like,” he pauses, “what if that guy had managed to convince them, you know?”

“Doesn’t seem like the type to care about that kind of thing,” Yunho interjects. “Or, didn’t, I guess.”

“He’s been hospitalized recently,” Hongjoong says, eyes not moving from Seonghwa. “The nurses were the ones to tell me. I don’t even want to _think_ about what for. And, like, he could have easily just-”

“But he didn’t,” Yeosang interrupts. “So don’t worry about it so much. The important stuff is out of the way, so if anything happens again, you don’t have to worry about it.”

Hongjoong sighs. It’s… a law? It’s protocol, basically. Soulmates are in charge of each other’s medical decisions if the other is unable to make decisions once both soulmates have their marks. It’s kind of antiquated, for sure, but it’s certainly come up with Hongjoong’s parents once or twice. When both soulmates are in distress, it can be harder to actually make those decisions, which is why there’s a movement to change this procedure. A few months-or hell, even a few weeks-ago, Hongjoong would have cared less about the whole thing. Of course, now, he doesn’t really get that luxury. 

“So is it bad?” Yunho asks. “If they’re having to keep him here, that means it’s bad, right?”

“Not really,” Hongjoong says. “It’s just a precaution. Plus, I think they’re kind of curious as to what caused… all of that, I guess.”

“Was it really that bad?” Yeosang asks.

Yunho and Hongjoong share a look. Yunho had gone in with Seonghwa when they’d arrived. They’ve learned by now that Hongjoong isn’t quite strong enough to manage Seonghwa while he’s panicking, so they decided it was best to not try. 

Hongjoong sighs. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Hyung, you’re doing fine,” Yunho says. “I feel like you’re doing perfectly fine, all things considered.”

“Then why are we here?” Hongjoong says, and he doesn’t mean to sound so positively frantic but he can’t help it at this point. “I-I’m supposed to make sure this kind of shit doesn’t happen, aren’t I?”

“It’s not your fault,” Yunho replies. “It was an  _ accident _ , hyung. Seonghwa will be  _ okay _ . You’re both safe.”

They’re safe. 

They are.

For how long? Hongjoong doesn’t know. 

He doesn’t bring it up. 

“It reminds you of them,” Yeosang says, breaking the silence. “Doesn't it?”

“I’m too tired to get into all that right now,” Hongjoong says. “It’s way too early for you to be psychoanalyzing me, but since you’re asking, yes. It does.” 

“Well, thankfully,” Yunho says, “Seonghwa isn’t your mom.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. Yunho and Yeosang have never even met his mother in person; they might have introduced themselves to each other on the phone, but Hongjoong can’t quite remember. They’ve certainly heard him either rant or cry about her before, though; he’s fairly certain of that.

He can tell Seonghwa is waking up before he even moves. Without thinking, Hongjoong stands, barely taking a moment to look over the buttons on the remote next to the bed to locate the nurse button. 

Immediately upon waking, Seonghwa looks around like he doesn’t know where he is. Hongjoong notices that he doesn’t seem too bothered by the harsh light of the room, which is good. He waits for Seonghwa’s eyes to fall on him before moving; by now he knows that the older startles easily, especially when he’s half-awake. 

“Where am I?” Seonghwa asks. “What happened?”

“You hit your head,” Hongjoong says, keeping his tone soft. “Do you remember that? Or coming here?”

“Maybe,” Seonghwa replies, gingerly lifting a hand to his now-bandaged forehead. “I don’t know.”

“They did say you might have a hard time remembering everything,” Yunho says when Hongjoong hesitates. “It’ll come back.”

Seonghwa nods. Before anyone can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door and a nurse walks in. Hongjoong will honestly never understand how so many nurses are so chipper, even when they’re working at ungodly hours, and he realizes pretty quickly that this woman is no different.

“Good morning!” she says, and nearly everyone in the room winces. She walks to the foot of the bed, addressing Seonghwa. “Glad to see you’re awake. How’s the head.”

“It’s fine,” he says, eyes sliding to his lap. “Doesn’t hurt too bad.” 

“Good!” The nurse says. She looks up. “One of you is Kim Hongjoong, yes?”

Hongjoong steps forward a little. “I am,” he says. 

The nurse smiles and he thinks it’s supposed to be sympathetic. “How are you feeling?” She asks. 

“Tired,” he says without hesitation. “We both are.”

The nurse nods. “I’ll make this quick, then,” she says. “We wanted a better idea of what’s going on.”

“Seonghwa has night terrors,” Hongjoong starts, figuring out how to word things as he goes along. “It can be pretty bad; I guess he was thrashing around a bit and he ended up hitting his head on a nightstand.” 

“Okay,” the nurse says, taking notes at what appears to be an inhuman speed. “And what exactly causes these disturbances? Do you know?”

Hongjoong pauses, looking over at Yunho. Getting the hint, he and Yeosang get up and leave quietly.

“Do you want to tell her?” Hongjoong asks softly. Seonghwa shakes his head without even lifting his eyes. 

“Trauma,” Hongjoong says. “Like, severe, prolonged trauma. He’s only been with me for a few weeks, and from what he’s told me he was being,” Hongjoong pauses, steeling himself, willing himself to actually just say it, “severely abused in a few different ways? For over a year.”

There’s this... weird feeling across the bond for a minute, a feeling that makes Hongjoong feel like suddenly he’s covered in a layer of grime. It’s not a feeling he’s unfamiliar with, but there’s a level of intensity to it that takes him aback. 

It’s shame. 

“And he’s out of this environment now?” The nurse asks. 

Hongjoong nods, the feeling clinging to him. “There was this man,” he says, and panic seizes his chest at the mere thought of him. “H-he was responsible for a lot of it, but he’s… gone now.”

The nurse nods. “Seonghwa,” she says gently. “I know you’re tired, but from what I know, you were taken to another hospital about six weeks ago, and I don’t think Hongjoong knows why. Can you tell me what happened?”

Seonghwa inhales sharply. “I-“ he cuts himself off, and Hongjoong feels like the ground is about to open up from underneath him. “I was bleeding… and it’d hurt for so long that I thought—hoped— I was dying. I-I don’t remember the word for it, but it was a hemorrhoid that had… blood in it? I think?”

“Thrombosed,” the nurse clarifies. Seonghwa nods.

“It burst. And when they looked, they found others,” he continues. “Outside and… inside. It was weird, everything stopped hurting and it felt so weird.” He looks up at the nurse. “Is that normal? Is it supposed to be like that?”

“How long were you in pain before that?” The nurse asks.

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa says. “Maybe a few weeks? Sometimes I couldn’t move, and that made some of them mad. H-he didn’t care either way.”

Hongjoong knows the emotions aren’t entirely his own, and he is fully aware that it’s likely worse for Seonghwa, but he feels  _ fucking disgusting.  _ Like an infected sore. 

“Did you have the other hemorrhoids removed?” 

Seonghwa nods. “It wasn’t bad,” he says. “I thought it would be bad. For a few days everything was okay. I thought maybe it could stay that way.” 

“Do you know if any more have shown up?” The nurse asks carefully.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “I think they tried checking,” he says. “When I came here, I mean. I don’t think that went well.” 

“They had asked him if he had been hospitalized recently, and he’d said yes, and then when they asked what for, he panicked,” Hongjoong fills in. “That’s what I was told.”

“Right,” the nurse says. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to check that again while you’re here. Not now, necessarily, I’m not really qualified to do that, but I’ll look into it. Do you know if you’ve been exposed to any STDs?”

“Hard to say,” Seonghwa says. “Probably? I can’t remember. I had been tested before, in the beginning, but that fell to the wayside eventually, I guess.”

Listening to Seonghwa talk, and experiencing all of the shame that comes from recounting all of this, brings an important thing to Hongjoong’s attention; there’s so much that he doesn’t know about Seonghwa. He doesn’t know how all of this has really affected him aside from the more obvious things. He doesn’t even know all of what happened. And more importantly, he has no idea who Seonghwa was before any of this. He has no frame of reference for how any of this has changed the older, and it bothers him more than it probably should. 

In the earlier days, Seonghwa had told him that he’d stayed in this place, in this entire situation, because he felt like he’d had no other option. What could have possibly made him feel that way? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy this is a new end note because i added to the fic. i wanted to put this in now, like i know i said i was gonna do this at the same time as the new update, but i'm dealing with shit so idk, it might be a few days yet before the next chapter is done, especially because i keep wanting to add MORE elements and hhhhh. i have a lot of plans for wht i want to do, but just no idea how much longer i wanna continue this particular piece. i've played with the idea of making everything after this its own fic, but i don't know if i really. want to commit to that. and i don't know what kind of place exploring some of this stuff is gonna put me in? like that's where we are. anyways.  
> i'll be in touch


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so like. i've had a whole starting note in the drafts since like mid-september, but this is getting STUPID so i'm just going to let you all know the plan as of now.
> 
> i'm capping this one off as soon as i can, and this is for one reason; the thing has gotten too fucking big in my brain.
> 
> and i have a hard time trusting that i'm actually going to do it, but i would LIKE to try and explore some of the stuff i've come up with, if only to keep it from sitting in my brain. 
> 
> i really don't know if i expect anyone to read any potential sequels. i also don't know if i particularly care anymore. 
> 
> so i'm leaving this one here, and it's kind of an open ending, but it's an ending, and with my OWN ptsd getting worse, it's the best i can do. 
> 
> like, i originally started this because my ocd won't stop playing through the plot like it's some bad movie stuck on the television in my brain (because my headspace is like, some sort of house, don't ask.), and it hasn't fucking stopped. so now we're into a lot of really wild shit that i don't care to get into on this specific fic. because for all intents and purposes, the original story of the fic is done. they've sort of gotten out of the worst of the situation, so there's very little else to say. i could've easily capped it off like two chapters ago. i thought i would have the spoons to see it through, and now? i just don't. 
> 
> so instead of beating a dead, traumatized horse, i'm going to move on.

Seonghwa has a hard time recalling what he was like Before. 

It makes sense; he knows it makes sense, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying. He had a good three years on his own before all of this started, and while he can’t remember a lot of his life before  _ that _ , he likes to think he had, at one point in his life, had a good grip on who he was.

So when Hongjoong asks him to tell him about himself later in the afternoon, he draws a complete blank, and it kind of puts him on edge. 

“Why?” He asks. 

Hongjoong shrugs. “I don’t know a lot about you,” he says. “Figured it might be nice to know.”

“What’s there to know?” Seonghwa asks. “I’m not very interesting.”

“What about your family, or something?” Hongjoong replies. “I’ve told you all about mine, it’s only fair, hyung.”

Seonghwa sighs. “My mom had me before she even had her mark,” he says. “She was either eighteen or nineteen, I can’t remember. And then she found o _ kaa-sama _ when I was around four? Five? I don’t know. It’s been a while since she told me. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to her at all, I think.”

He trails off. Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. 

“ _ Okaa-sama?” _

Seonghwa nods. “She’s Japanese,” he says. “It was always just mom and  _ mama _ , but then I got older and it felt weird to keep calling her that.”

Hongjoong nods, but he still looks confused. “Was it just you three then?” He asks. 

Seonghwa shakes his head. “It’s weird,” he says. “For a few years it was just Mom and I with occasional visits with my birth father, but then when she came around, she wanted to… I guess mentor other kids? So we always had at least two or three other people in the house.”

“Really?”

Seonghwa nods. This is always where things get a bit fuzzy, and he really doesn’t want to go any further than that. 

“They were always older than me,” he says in spite of himself. “I mean, maybe not before I left, but I can’t really seem to remember very well.” 

He doesn’t even like to admit it; it always makes him feel weird. Hongjoong seems to pick up on it, quickly changing the subject. 

Once they get past that, Hongjoong is surprisingly easy to talk to. Seonghwa probably couldn’t even say what they were talking about, but it works. He doesn’t feel like he’s even at a hospital for most of the day. 

And once that’s all over, and even weeks after the strain behind his eyes seems to lessen, Seonghwa still doesn’t leave the apartment. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s been across the hall to see San and the others that he doesn’t still quite know. Beyond that, however, he doesn’t go anywhere. 

It’s irrational. He knows that Seojoon is dead. He  _ knows _ that there’s little chance of anyone recognizing him on the street and trying to steal him for themselves. Even so, any time that someone asks him if he wants to accompany them somewhere, he just gives them a small smile and a quiet “no thanks.”

He thinks they’re worried. He knows, at the very least, that Hongjoong is. And that’s a whole other… situation. Seonghwa isn’t used to being around people that not only acknowledge his emotions, but also feel them at the exact same time. He’s still not wrapped his head around the fact that Seojoon could never really empathize with him. For so long, he was convinced that he was the problem, so remembering that Seojoon was never even capable of empathizing with him, at least not in any meaningful way, is difficult. 

But Hongjoong? 

Seonghwa genuinely feels bad about it a lot of the time. Like, when he found out that Hongjoong ended up having to be sedated because his own panic was so overwhelming that the other couldn’t think, it blew him the fuck away. He did that. He had done that to him. 

Sometimes, when Seojoon was upset, he would yell at Seonghwa that it was  _ his _ fault that he felt that way. So, one can imagine the kind of distress  _ that _ caused. 

What makes it worse, or at least what Seonghwa thinks makes it worse, is that Hongjoong is always insistent that it  _ isn’t _ his fault. And, like, in a way he’s right, and Seonghwa can sort of recognize that, but it never sticks. Sure, it technically isn’t his fault that his mind is still kind of in survival mode, and it isn’t really his fault that his flashbacks aren’t even confined to his dreams anymore, but… isn’t it, though?

When they came back from the hospital, Hongjoong had checked Seonghwa’s phone. Not for any particular reason; probably just to check the time. Anyway, what’s important is that his mother had messaged the day before. 

At the time, Seonghwa didn’t have the energy to even think about it. Even now, weeks later, the message still sits there on his phone, unopened. He had kept contact with both of his moms even after moving in with Seojoon, if only to keep them from worrying. They never pressed about his lack of visits, about why his phone calls were always so short. In a way, he resents them for never prying. 

He knows he should call. Like, at the very least. He just feels like he can’t, like if he does he’d be forced to tell them the truth, and he just can’t handle that right now. 

Ultimately, Seonghwa isn’t sure how long he plans to stay in this weird in-between state. He knows he should try and make something of his life, but at the same time, he can hardly come to terms with the fact that he has his life back. It certainly doesn’t feel like he does. For the past year or so, he’s been convinced he would die on the job and that it was only a matter of time before there was a terrible accident, or a completely premeditated accident, or Seonghwa would accidentally run into oncoming traffic. 

Planning for a life that he never thought he would have feels almost impossible. 

Seonghwa wakes up around midday and finally decides that he should probably just get up. He’s been awake at least three times since he went to sleep, which isn’t too bad all things considered. There have been nights where he would wake up an upwards of  _ five _ times. Those are fun. 

Hongjoong’s already gone for the day, and honestly Seonghwa isn’t sure if he even went back to sleep after they both woke up around 6. Surely, he’ll figure it out in a few hours. It’s weird just  _ how much _ filters through the bond sometimes, and again, it makes Seonghwa feel bad because he can’t imagine how difficult  _ he’s _ been over the past year. 

They don’t talk about it. Not really. They need to, he thinks.

Pushing the thought away for the hundredth time in the past few weeks, Seonghwa sits up, glancing at his phone. 

**San: hey! lmk when you’re awake i wanted to talk to you**

**San: it’s nothing serious!!! not really. just wanted to chat uwu**

  
  


San is… interesting. Hongjoong had explained to him a while ago that San is a psych major with a particular interest in how empathetic bonds work, and he’s definitely been pretty helpful when it comes to explaining Seonghwa’s… situation to everyone else in their circle. Which is apparently kind of big? Or at least, Seonghwa considers it rather big. He’s not used to being around so many people at once. 

Either way, San is nice. He even knows a thing or two about dealing with flashbacks and the like, and no one else really did, or had to, so he’s been around quite a bit. Seonghwa unlocks his phone. 

**You: I’m awake**

The reply is almost instantaneous. 

**San: good afternoon!!! ^_^ how are you feeling?**

It really isn’t early, but Seonghwa has not been awake anywhere near long enough to accurately answer the question. 

**You: I’m okay**

Should he add anything to that? He never really knows how to text people, much less San. Realistically, Seonghwa knows San probably isn’t thinking too hard about what he says, but  _ Seonghwa _ is certainly thinking too hard about what he says. 

**San: i’m glad :)) can i come over?**

He could always say no. Seonghwa knows he could easily get away with just staying in bed for the rest of the day and no one is going to call him on it, but he ultimately decides against it. 

**You: Okay. Five minutes?**

Seonghwa isn’t sure how San is able to read, process, and then reply so quickly.

**San: sounds good! ^_^/**

And so, around seven minutes later, they’re on the couch, and San is… well, Seonghwa thinks he knows what he’s suggesting, but he isn’t sure.

“What are you getting at?” He asks.

“I’m talking about getting help, hyung,” San says. “Like, okay, you’re out of all of that, physically, but mentally you aren’t. You sleep majority of the time. You don’t leave the house. That isn’t… normal. You know what I mean?”

If he’s honest, Seonghwa hadn’t thought about it. It had hardly crossed his mind. Did he think he was just going to stay this way forever? He isn’t sure. Maybe? 

Thankfully, San actually came prepared, which isn’t too surprising. 

But then for the next week, he isn’t sure how to prepare, and so he ends up nearly forgetting about the appointment until the day before when San reminds him. 

He isn’t sure what to say.

When he gets there, the office is cozy in every sense of the word. It hardly looks like an office; as far as Seonghwa knows, this is just someone’s living room. The walls are a light brown, the color of extra-light coffee. The room is illuminated by a few warm lamps. It’s designed to make him feel comfortable, to make him feel  _ safe. _

And yet.

And yet it’s been at least five minutes- maybe more, but he doesn’t want to think about that- and Seonghwa has said nothing to this woman. 

He’s hardly talked to Hongjoong about what happened. How is he meant to open up to a stranger when he can hardly speak to his own soulmate?

“We don’t have to start with the hard stuff, you know,” Dr. Moon says, pulling Seonghwa out of his head. “Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes trained on his hands. “Not a lot of free time.”

“Okay,” she says. It doesn’t feel okay. “What about your family?”

“Haven’t seen them in at least a year,” Seonghwa replies. “They’ve called, but I don’t know what to say to them anymore. I feel like if they knew what happened, they would think I was stupid.”

“Why do you think that?”

Seonghwa sighs. “You know how some people are very,” he pauses, trying to find the right word, “eager to completely readjust their lives when they find their soulmates?”

Dr. Moon nods. “Are they like that?” She asks.

Seonghwa nods. “I mean, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing for my mom,” he says. “She was young, she had to raise me by herself, so when she finally found her soulmate, moving in together probably seemed like the smart thing to do.”

Dr. Moon hums in affirmation as she writes something on her notepad. It’s a little unnerving to watch, so Seonghwa looks back down. 

“Do you think it’s worked out well for you?” She asks. “Moving in with Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa laughs. “I was sent there on accident and just never left,” he says. “It hardly feels like moving.”

San had been kind enough to explain most of the situation while filling out intake forms, and while it’s nice that Seonghwa doesn’t have to rehash every terrible thing that’s ever happened to him, it’s kind of weird that Dr. Moon knows most everything. 

“Even so,” she says, “has it been good?”

“I guess,” Seonghwa concedes. “I mean, the bar is on the floor, but sure.”

He sounds irritated. He’s not trying to sound irritated; he hardly  _ feels  _ irritated. He’s being difficult.

“I feel like I’m intruding,” he adds on. “Like, we’ve talked about why he didn’t look for me, a-and I get it, but at the same time it makes me feel bad. Like I shouldn’t be there.”

Dr. Moon leans forward a little in her seat. “What do you mean by that?” She asks.

“I,” Seonghwa cuts himself off. “I keep having this feeling that I shouldn’t be alive,” he says slowly. “Like I wasn’t supposed to make it out of all of that alive.”

Dr. Moon observes him warily for a moment before scribbling something on her notepad again. Seonghwa doesn’t want to think about the can of worms he’s opening by just admitting that.

She finishes writing, flipping over to a new page, and looks up. “Can I be honest with you, Seonghwa-ssi?” 

Seonghwa nods.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a case quite like yours,” she says. “I’ve been practicing psychology for about fifteen years, but I’ve only ever seen maybe two clients who were victims of soulmate fraud. And neither of them were anywhere near as heavily abused.”

Seonghwa flinches at the word. “How reassuring.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Dr. Moon reassures him with a chuckle. “I mean that you have dealt with a lot in a relatively short period of time. What you’re experiencing isn’t uncommon in individuals with C-PTSD, which is why coming here is a very important first step.” 

She rattles on about different treatment options and “I would recommend group therapy to help reintegrate back into society,” but Seonghwa can hardly hear her. 

In retrospect, he doesn’t know what he was expecting. Like, sure, having chronic night terrors and jumping at any sound and having Hongjoong tell the others when he thinks Seonghwa can’t hear  _ not to touch him if he can’t see them because it makes him nervous _ definitely isn’t normal, and he knew that. Obviously. But Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? It feels like a big word, like a very heavy burden that he’s going to end up passing onto anyone around him. And in a way, he already has, hasn’t he? 

It’s a lot to take in at once, but it’s comforting, isn’t it? To actually have a word for everything. It’s more than he’s had in a long time. And it’s not like he isn’t doing this entirely by himself, right? 

“Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa blinks, coming back to reality. Dr. Moon is still sitting in her chair. He’s still in the office.

“You’re going to be okay,” she says, smiling warmly.

He tries to return the smile, but it feels more like a grimace.

He’s going to be okay.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've had that drafted for at least a month, maybe more. hardly read and edited to post it, but honestly, it's either that or let it sit for another month.
> 
> if i post anything else for this verse, it'll be here.
> 
> i don't really want to link any additional social media here because this thing started as a vent fic, and i don't want that many people to see it, really lol
> 
> have a good day ?? yeah


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise bitches
> 
> okay, so like, i've been trying to write an eleventh chapter. i have! this kind of isn't it. i've brought for you bits and pieces that aren't even 1000 words. but i kinda want to explain why.
> 
> a thing i do, a thing that i've only properly identified really recently, is daydream. like, a lot. maladaptively. it's, like, a coping mechanism of sorts? i guess? anyway hi i have maladaptive daydreaming and when you pair it with ocd and dissociation, it's a big fucking Mess of me getting sucked into storylines basically against my will.  
> now, when i said last chapter that this story had grown a lot bigger than what i have here, that's kind of what i meant. i said that it might've been an ocd thing. i think it's a result of the daydreaming *and* the ocd together. but idk, i'm not a doctor, and i literally quit therapy, i can't get a new doctor at the moment because of dumb health insurance shit. anyways.
> 
> the daydream version of this story goes in a lot of places. like, so many fucking places. in the daydream verse, seonghwa has did, and while originally he'd only had maybe five or six alters, now it's something like twelve, and there's a whole... thing there that i couldn't even attempt to fit into here without simply rewriting the entire thing.
> 
> which i might very well do. 
> 
> you may be wondering how the fuck we even got there. i honestly don't know. i think it's partly me being bothered by the way people write "little space" in fics as someone with dissociative symptoms that literally regressed during a baker act, and partly because did is kind of a fixation of mine? like i said, i've had dissociative symptoms, it's not always been me in my head. so now there's always a part of my brain is like "what if we actually have did and you just don't know it. what if you have all of these repressed traumatic childhood memories and you just can't remember them?" 
> 
> i don't know why i'm putting all of this here. i just felt like coming back to this fic. i think about it a lot, i really do. and i'm absolutely shocked that so many people are still subscribed. i kind of feel like i let the story itself down because i really didn't know what i was doing when i started. i've been thinking a lot about doing a complete rewrite where i just start a whole new work on here, update that whenever, and then delete this one once it's entirely done. i hate deleting fics, i'm so tired of deleting my work. 
> 
> i'm so scared that i'll be forgotten. 
> 
> anyway, here's some small snippets that i managed to get out before the daydream verse kinda just took this entire thing over and i couldn't finish the story properly.

Hongjoong’s calls with his dad are always really… awkward. 

He thinks he picked up a few different traits from his father over the years, and in his opinion, most of those traits are really difficult to work around. Especially when it comes to actually speaking to the man in question.

It goes like this: his father will ask how he’s doing, Hongjoong will reply, he asks about Mom, and his father replies in return, and then there’s a pause for a good thirty seconds before one of them comes in with info about a new job Hongjoong has taken on or another doctor’s appointment that his father had gone to, with or without his wife. 

They’re in one of these pauses when Hongjoong looks down at his wrist and thinks, “fuck it.”

“I found him,” he says.

He worries for a moment that maybe he should actually explain what that means, but when he hears his father inhale sharply immediately after the words leave his mouth, he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to. 

“Did you?” His father asks. 

“Y-yeah, he,” Hongjoong pauses, unsure of how to word what he wants to say. “You know how Jiyeon-noona from across the street said that she found her husband almost on accident? Like it was kind of just… supposed to happen?”

“I think I remember that,” his father replies slowly. 

“That’s how it went,” Hongjoong says. “I-I mean, it was different from their story, but I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details.”

There’s a pause. He won’t pry. Hongjoong knows he isn’t going to pry, and yet he can feel his free hand clenching into a fist. 

“I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” his father says at last.

“I didn’t, at first,” Hongjoong says honestly. “We’re… working on a lot. There’s a lot to work on.”

“Is he…”

He’s asking if Seonghwa is anything like his mother. 

“Not necessarily,” Hongjoong says. “He can, like, walk.” He winces. “I-I mean it isn’t any severe physical stuff, you know? The issue is mainly just mental, I guess, but given that our empathetic bond is mainly emotion-based, it’s… been a lot to adjust to.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot,” his father says, his concern evident even over the phone. “I just don’t want you to feel… stuck.”

“I don’t,” Hongjoong says immediately. “I never have. Like, I was ready to live the rest of my life alone, and now I don’t have to? And, yeah, there’s a lot going on, but I don’t feel like it’s something I’ve been forced to do, you know? Seonghwa, like every part of him, is so easy to love, like not just me, but _everyone_ here cares about him. A-and I love him so much that it scares me sometimes. It’s just… so much more than I’d ever expected for myself.” 

There’s a moment where neither of them speak. Hongjoong doesn’t think he even breathes in that time. 

“I’m glad,” his father says finally. “I… I’ve always wanted more for you, and I know I haven’t always done my best, but you know we both care about you.”

Hongjoong nods. “Most of the time, yes.”

“Well,” his dad says, “it’s not easy for her. Especially not now.”

Hongjoong doesn’t feel like arguing. “I know,” he says.

“I’m here for you,” his father tells him, and it’s the most emotional Hongjoong thinks he’s ever heard him. “Really.”

Hongjoong smiles. “Thanks.”

* * *

It’s hard.

Nearly every day, it’s really fucking hard. And it feels like the more he finds out, the harder it gets. 

But there are some things that help to dull the pain. 

“Tell me something,” Seonghwa says, voice barely above a whisper. “Anything.” 

Hongjoong inhales. “My dad called a few days ago,” he says slowly. 

Seonghwa lifts his head at that, and even in the dark, Hongjoong can feel his eyes on him. “You didn’t say anything about that,” he says.

“It wasn’t bad,” Hongjoong replies, blindly reaching out to touch the other’s face. “Not much to report, really. He just wanted to know how everything was going.” 

Seonghwa hums. There’s a brief pause.

“I told him about you,” Hongjoong continues, and he can feel Seonghwa’s unease. “Not everything. Just that you were here. With me. And stuff.”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa breathes. “How did that go?” 

“He,” Hongjoong pauses, trying to find the right words, “was surprised. And a little cautious. He doesn’t want me to end up like him and all.” 

“What all did you tell him?” Seonghwa asks cautiously. 

Hongjoong rubs his thumb against his cheek. “Like I said, not a lot,” he says. “Just that you were having a hard time, that it kind of affected the bond, nothing specific.”

“Kind of?” 

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says. “I don’t need him freaking out and running here.” 

Seonghwa sighs. “Fair.” 

“And I,” Hongjoong starts before cutting himself off, “Well, he got kind of upset. B-because like I said, he’s worried I’ll end up in his position, and like, I tried to explain to him that that isn’t going to happen but he kept pushing on it. So I told him that we’d already been through a lot of shit and that I’ve never felt, like, burdened by anything. None of it has ever felt like a chore in the way I know it does for him.” 

“Never?” Seonghwa asks quietly. “Really?”

“Not for a minute,” Hongjoong says, and he feels it so viscerally that’s he knows Seonghwa feels it too. He licks his lips nervously before continuing. “For one, I feel like I can understand myself better. I-I don’t feel lost, I don’t feel aimless anymore. And two, I… I love you far too much to ever feel burdened by any of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ i feel like a failure lmao.
> 
> like, i know that the purpose of me writing this fic in the first place was to just get me to put pen to fucking paper, but i really....... did not pick a good concept for that purpose. i feel like this is the kind of thing that needed to be handled with more care, but maybe i only feel that way because i'm dealing with so much of my own trauma in ways that i wasn't when i first started. 
> 
> anyway. i'm good, i promise. maybe i'll go through with the rewrite. i mean, fuck, i already have an outline started for it. it's a little messy, but we're muddling through it. let me know if that sounds like it might be fun. or let me know that it sounds like a horrible fucking idea! either one works.


End file.
